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foreverdolly · 2 months

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࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 5 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 6.6k

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“Move.”

He was like an impenetrable wall.

You attempted yet again to step around Feyd, your outstretched hand just barely brushing against the door before the man turned his body, blocking you from the exit. He stood with his arms crossed, using his much larger frame as a barricade. After the. . . events that transpired last night, the only thing that was on your mind was freedom. You needed breathing room, if only for a few minutes. Feyd had been your shadow for the last three days. He hadn’t left your side even for a second.

You wanted to trust him, even against your better judgment, so you tried to believe that it was only because he wanted to protect you. There was still that overly cautious voice nagging at you, telling you that he was looking for weaknesses to use against you later. His all-seeing eyes could be sizing you up, making note of how many bites it would take for him to swallow you up whole. The last thing you wanted was to be consumed by this place. . . Consumed by him.

The events that had transpired in your guest bedroom four days ago had your suspicions rising, and you needed to be certain that you were just paranoid before you could even begin thinking about your fast approaching wedding ceremony.

You had feared your impending fate for the entirety of your life. That had always been the one thing that frightened you most, and yet here you were, bruised and battered. It was crazy to believe that there were people on Geidi Prime that were worse than Feyd-Rautha. . . and yet here you were, depending on him for safety. You needed answers.

How had the guard even entered your room in the first place?

“I won’t tell you again. Move.” Your jaw ached, teeth grinding together as you tried to keep yourself from striking him across that cocky face of his.

The skin between his brow bones wrinkled ever-so-slightly as he stared down at you. It was almost as though he was scolding a small child, watching them flail and cry after their punishment had been dealt. Last you had checked, you’d done nothing wrong. Why were your basic rights being revoked after the attempted murder? Why did it feel like you were the one paying the price?

“Either you come with me and train or you stay in our room until I grab you. You have two choices. Pick one.” The pale Na-Baron almost seemed bored of your antics and you couldn’t blame him.

You’d been fighting him every chance you got ever since he had forced himself on you last night. A silent vow had been made right then and there: you were going to make his life a living hell, only stopping once you deemed he had done his proper penance.

“I like neither of those options. Watching you train has done nothing for me. I want to learn-”

“You don’t need to learn how to fight. Is it not the husband’s duty to protect his wife?” He tilted his head to the side, staring down at you with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Why was he so obsessed with the idea of protecting you? The most he did while the two of you “trained” was block your onslaught of attacks. Gurney wasn’t afraid to hit you in the sparring ring, even if you ended up injured and butt-hurt. He was blunt and told you the ways that you could improve yourself, meanwhile Feyd had been treating you like you were made of porcelain ever since the assassination attempt. You hated it. With your vocal cords still fried from the strangulation, you were made all too aware of the fact that your fighting skills were subpar.

You’d tried goading Feyd into attacking you head on many times, but no matter what you said he still held his punches. The difference between his treatment of you and other’s was startling. Someone could look at him wrong and he was immediately jumping down their throats, ready to strike with lethal precision.

“One day you will have to leave me alone, if even for a few minutes. . . and what then? You can’t always be there-” You were trying desperately to explain, and yet he would hear none of it. He looked almost offended by what you were saying.

“I will always be here,” He was quick to interject, eyes suddenly wild. “I won’t let anything hurt you again.”

Realistically you knew that your heart shouldn’t be pounding the way that it was.

Still, there it was, hammering away in your chest. Every once in a while it was almost as though that dark veil that he had cast over himself was lifted, revealing someone entirely new to you. Someone, as much as you hated to admit it, that was entirely too likable. Loveable, even. His constant changes in personality were starting to give you whiplash. Was he someone completely different when he was around you? Or was he just trying on different faces to see which one you liked better?

You clenched your fists at your side, trying hard to calm your raging emotions. His actions last night were completely barbaric, and yet you couldn’t forget the softness of his lips. The warmth of his mouth over yours had plagued your dreams and made it impossible to sleep. It was insane of you to feel this conflicted about something. You should hate everything about this man, and yet here he was, promising to be your protector. More than that, he was promising to stick around, which was arguably more terrifying.

“I’m going then. Will you not be coming with me?” He unfolded his arms, reaching a hand out for you to take.

It hung there in the space between you two, his pale fingers twitching. For a second you contemplated taking it. Regretfully you realized that you had something that you needed to look into.

“I’ll stay here,” You faltered when you saw the hint of rejection in his eyes as he let his hand fall back to his side. “My bruises are tender today, so I’ll just take a bath.”

Why were you trying to make him feel better about your refusal? This was all too confusing.

“Alright then. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that he turned on the heel of his boot and walked through the door, careful to close it tightly behind him.

You breathed a sigh of relief, moving forward so that you could press your forehead against the cool metal. It felt good against your flushed skin.

“I won’t leave until I hear you slide the lock into place.” His deep voice was muffled behind the thick barrier between the two of you.

You closed your eyes tightly, sliding your hand against the door until you found the lock, clicking it soundly into place. It must have appeased him, as you heard his retreating footsteps just a second later.

Time ticked by as you waited to be free of your newfound guardian. The last thing you wanted was to be caught in the hallway sneaking around. Feyd would surely side with his uncle if you were to tell him all about your suspicions, so you’d rather just investigate on your own until you had solid evidence. You wanted to believe that you hadn’t been set up to die, and yet you had this intense gut feeling that this all went even deeper than that.

Why would they make good on the promised engagement if they just wanted to kill you? It’s not like you were any real threat, other than the fact that you had been blessed with your mother’s gifts. As you were now, you were basically useless, which was a very hard pill to swallow.

Slowly you unlocked the door, scared that the sound might alert someone. You had slipped the knife you had stolen during your first dinner on Giedi Prime into your belt, hiding it under the flowing black gauze of your blouse for good measure. Even if you were caught, you needed some way to protect yourself.

The cold metal bit into your skin as you slid the door open, reminding you that you were safe. You will never let anyone hurt you like that again.

This time you will be ready.

Two rights and then three lefts. You had memorized the way to go in order to get to the left wing for this very reason. The Baron’s defenses would be tight, but his office would be relatively empty around this time. It was just about lunch, and according to Feyd he would retire to his personal quarters. If you could distract the guards for long enough to slip in, riffle around for information, and then get out. . . you’d be home free.

You wiped your sweaty palms on your skirt as you walked through the hall, training your expression to one of stony indifference. Modeling it after Feyd’s, you briskly made your way, hoping that the guards would be confused enough to let you pass without so much as a second thought.

‘I belong here.’ You lied to ourself, trying to bolster your confidence.

A few men in uniform turned to look after you, but no one stopped you. The way to the baron’s office was completely new to you. Feyd had never taken you this deep into the left wing before- only to get to the grand-hall to show you where the ceremony would be held. It was as large and foreboding as all of the other rooms on the giant estate, but the onyx floors had a certain shine to them as though there were flecks of quartz sprinkled throughout. You didn’t want to admit it at the time, but it was a rather extravagant place to get married.

You’d nonchalantly asked if the Baron lived in the left wing seeing as the architecture was seemingly more grandiose. He couldn’t have known that you would try to make your way in this direction on your own because he had let it slip: the baron and his office were located very close to the grand-hall.

“What are you doing over here?” The man’s voice was deeper than Feyd’s, though he was half his size.

The guard at his side looked to be twice your age, and yet the expression in his eyes made you think that he wouldn’t think twice about ripping your head straight from your shoulders.

“The Na-Baron asked me to come and get you two.” It felt awkward using Feyd’s title, stuffy even.

The two blinked a few times in disbelief, looking you up and down as if you were an insignificant worm. It was almost like you could hear their thoughts. You were nothing but a pitiful Atreides, so what were you doing taking orders from someone as important as your soon-to-be husband? They doubted that he would ever confide in you for anything other than warming his bed.

“He told me that the two men standing in front of the Baron’s office were needed in the training room.” The sooner they were gone the better.

Their eyebrows furrowed in confusion, slowly looking behind them at the large door they were currently standing in front of. How would you know that this was his uncle’s office unless you were explicitly told?

“Did he mention why we are needed?” There was still a hint of distrust in the older man’s voice, but it was far overshadowed by fear.

Feyd was unpredictable. Unpredictability and psychosis made for a dangerous combination.

“Another guard confided in him yesterday. Said that the two of you said something disrespectful recently and that he wanted to personally have a word with the both of you. I don’t know anything more than that.” You wanted them so frightened that they would completely abandon all reason. They needed to be gone long enough to give you time to properly search the place.

You watched as their pale faces went a sick shade of pale purple. The two looked like the gossiping type, and if their expressions were anything to go off of then you must be right. They were quick to bow their heads in your direction before jogging off, muttering curses under their breath.

A second. Two seconds. Three. . .

You opened the door as slowly as you possibly could, praying that it wouldn’t make a noise. You waited to see if you could hear any movement, wondering whether or not the inside was being watched as well. Thankfully you heard nothing. The room wasn’t as massive as you had been expecting. It was just about as large as the first bedroom you had been placed in was, but somehow it looked even darker. It still had the strangely textured walls and beautiful floors, same as the grand-hall, but there was something unsettling about it. The only light coming in was through the large window that was located in the middle of the room, but the world outside was a slate gray, so even that was dim. You didn’t have time to look out the large window, no matter how curious you were about your new surroundings. There was something that you had to do. Making a decision on how you should go about this whole predicament was paramount, and you refused to do it after the wedding.

There was still time to try and contact your parents back home if you had suspicions of a possible murder plot.

The Baron’s desk was neat, not a speck of dust marring it’s matte black surface. You weren’t looking for anything in particular. . . just something that would put your mind at ease. Confirmation was needed, one way or another. Either Feyd’s uncle was innocent or guilty. Of what? You weren’t quite sure yet.

You riffled through the papers that sat on the middle of the table, careful to stack them up exactly where they once were. The information in them seemed useless to you. Financial documents- most of them discussing the retrieval of spice. Never once had you stepped foot on Arrakis, so you found them slightly boring at worst and mildly interesting at best. It was then that you started tugging at the very few drawers, knowing that you would be found at any second. There were no sounds emitting from the hallway, but that didn’t mean anything. Most of the people on this planet were freaks of nature it would seem. You suddenly began to doubt that there would be any evidence here of all places.

Asking the guard that attempted to kill you and his accomplices questions would have been the best route, but your fiance had acted rashly before you even had the chance to catch your breath. The time to give up on your investigation was near. Seconds had turned into minutes. Your heart was pounding up in your throat, making it hard to breathe as you opened the last drawer.

It turned out that it wasn’t a drawer at all but a small cabinet. You had to crouch down and squint your eyes in the dark to see inside. The contents would have been useless to you in most cases, but something caught your eye. . . and terrified you in ways that you couldn’t quite put into words.

It was a cabinet filled with marked-

“Did you see his face? It looked like he was surprised to see us.” The male’s voice had you standing up so fast that a muscle in your neck twitched, resulting in a dull pain shooting up the base of your head.

You were about to be caught. Any second now they would be back at the door, and where would you hide in the hallway? The billowy skirt that the ladies in waiting had brought to Feyd’s room this morning nearly sabotaged you as you tripped by the door. They were just around the corner, only a few steps away from his office now.

What would happen if you were caught? Would the wedding be called off? Would you be punished severely?

You closed the door as quietly as you could behind you, running in the opposite direction that the two begrudged guards were coming from. You only skidded to a stop when you saw that this hallway was also heavily guarded, their backs turned to you.

This was the worst case scenario. You were running in the opposite direction where you had come, which meant that you had absolutely no clue where you were going. There was no way that you would get out of this without some sort of formal permission, and two guards were already suspicious of you. Oh, and you couldn’t use the Voice if things started going south.

If you could sink right into the floor, right in this moment, you would.

The cabinet in the baron’s office was filled with keycards, each labeled with numbers that must correspond to each room. Only two were missing- two keycards that belonged to a room that had been organized on the wall of the right side of the cabinet. Left wing and right wing. The guest rooms were located in the right.

There was no way that was a coincidence. . . not when you were staying in the right wing the night that you were injured. You had been given a keycard at the very beginning of your stay. Not even your ladies-in-waiting had a way to get into your room by themselves. They had to knock on the door and wait for you to unlock it from the inside for them.

So if you had one keycard. . . then who had the other? Had someone broken into the Baron’s room just the same as you had, perhaps?

A sudden grip on your wrist had your mouth falling open, your lungs seizing as you sucked in a breath, your body's natural reaction being to scream. A hand was quick to press to your mouth, muffling whatever sound you could make. The hand belonged to someone tall, their body hard against your back as they ushered you into a small space. They pressed a button on the wall, and all you could do was watch in horror as the door slid closed behind the two of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It was pitch black in whatever tight space he had dragged you into. A closet, you surmised. Still, you could hear that his teeth were clenched as he spoke to you, voice deep and low as he whispered.

Feyd. You hated the fact that you were so relieved that it was him. His presence here meant that you were safe. All you had to do was come up with some sort of lie as to why you were here. Walking alongside him wouldn’t dredge up any suspicions. No one would be the wiser if they saw the Na-Baron giving his soon-to-be bride a tour around the grounds.

His chest was pressed tight against yours, and suddenly you found it hard to take in a single breath. It felt as though he might press himself straight into your ribcage. . . and maybe you really were going crazy, but you wouldn’t mind it if he did break you. The smoky, spiced scent of him was clouding your judgment.

You were no longer yourself.

“It’s none of your business.” You whispered back, trying to make your tone just as ferocious as his was. It lacked bite though, and he seemed to catch the way that your voice faltered ever so slightly.

“Getting yourself killed the second that I look the other way. . .” He scoffed, and you wished so badly that you could make out his features in the dark. His body moved ever so slightly, as though he was leaning his head back in exasperation. “Do I need to bind your hands and ankles every time I leave the room? Are you that incapable of being without me even for a second?”

“I got lost.” You hissed, the lie sweet on your honeyed tongue. You were getting better at being despicable.

“Well, that’s too bad,” His voice softened, almost as though he was speaking to a child. “Getting lost in these halls isn’t hard to do.”

His grip on your wrists tightened to the point of pain, and for a second fear flashed behind your eyes. You hadn’t feared Feyd since you first arrived on Geidi Prime, and it was as though you were being brutally reminded of just who warmed your bed at night. He could kill you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Those strong fingers were currently immobilizing you now, leaving bruises on your wrist where he held you so ruthlessly.

“You’re a clever little mouse. What are you doing outside of my uncle’s door, hmm?” His hand freed one of your wrists, instead opting to grip your jaw so that he could move your head up.

Could. . . could he see you? The breath loosed from your lungs and all you could do was squint your eyes, begging them to adjust to the darkness. He was in his element here, lost to you in the shadows.

“If the guards caught you then they could deem you to be a spy. You would have been beheaded before I had time to get to you, and I’m sure that they wouldn’t have notified me before the killing took place. They know. . . how I am with you.” He chose his last words very carefully, faltering before he sounded the words out.

“And how are you? With me, I mean.” You regretted the words as soon as they passed your lips, and yet you were curious. Were you nothing more than a pet to him? A plaything for him to take off of the shelf whenever it suited his mood? Perhaps he saw you as nothing more than a conquest.

Your hand shook as you began digging into your side, searching your belt for the handle of the blade that you had been carrying during your explorations of this labyrinthian prison. Slowly you pulled it out, pressing it against his side.

You felt his muscles jump under his shirt as he realized you were now brandishing a weapon. His grip was still vicelike around one of your wrists, but he moved again, slowly looking down at his side to see exactly what it was that you were now threatening him with.

“I could snap your neck right now.”

“But you won’t.” That was the only thing that you were sure of. It was the only truth that you were clinging onto: Feyd Rautha would not harm you.

He moved your head to the side, the blade pressing hard into his side as he leaned forward, squeezing the breath straight from your lungs as his hard chest pressed pressed pressed into yours. Your breasts felt as though they might burst and your heart right along with it. He placed a kiss on the side of your neck, causing you to jerk in surprise.

The knife dug into his side and you paled in horror as you realized what you had done. He groaned, the noise echoing in your ear due to your very forced proximity. You needed space. You needed to breathe.

“No. I wouldn’t,” His breath was hot against your cheek as he slid his nose along the expanse of your neck. “Not ever.”

It felt as though something was being pulled taught in your heart. At any second it threatened to tear free. He had galvanized a strange sort of reaction from you- one that you were wholly unfamiliar with. This was all too new and all too much.

“Let go of me.” Your voice shook pathetically, and while it was a command. . . truly, you were begging him.

“You’ve finally learned to tolerate me. Or is this developing into something that you weren’t prepared for?” There was something in his voice. . . something that you were entirely confident that he was incapable of displaying: feeling. “Is that why you haven’t been able to look at me since yesterday?”

“I-I’m angry at you. Why do you think that I would be able to even stomach looking at you after that?”

He pulled away from your neck, the blade of the knife dislodging itself by a few centimeters with the added distance. He groaned again under his breath, his hand moving your face yet again so that he could get a good look at you. Your jaw ached as his fingers dug in ever so slightly.

“No, this isn’t the face of anger.” He sounded sure of that.

And it scared you that he was right. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried desperately to see him in the darkness. Still, all you saw was black.

“Then what is it? If you know so much then tell me.”

“I don’t know. . .” And for a second you thought that you might have won this round somehow. “No one has ever looked at me the way that you do.”

Your lips parted in shock as you stared up into the darkness. Did he always have to pull the rug right out from under you? Just when you were finally starting to get your bearings, he made you feel so unstable. If both of your hands were free then you would have tangled them in your hair. The arm that gripped your weapon slackened, the blade clattering to the floor beside you.

“Then I feel sorry for you.” Your eyes pricked with tears, so you closed the useless things. Still, after all of this, you refused to let him see you cry.

“I know.” He whispered, his voice so gentle that you could weep.

“And I fear you.”

“I know.” His forehead pressed against yours.

“I don’t want this.”

“I know.” He nuzzled against you, his grip on your wrists finally loosening. He must have known that you wouldn’t try to get away from him.

The fucked up thing was that it felt as though your feet had grown roots, tying you to the spot. All it would take was one good shove and you would be free of him and the closet. And yet. . .

And yet. . .

“I could have sworn I saw someone over here.” The voice outside in the hallway made you jump, your eyes shooting open.

You hadn’t been as careful as you thought you had been. Feyd’s earlier statement was coming back to haunt you. They would have you killed, uncaring as to whether or not you even made it into the bastard’s room. Whatever purpose you had for being in this area would be nefarious in everyone else’s mind. What were you even doing here in the first place? Your suspicions were unfounded, and more likely than not you would have found absolutely nothing to substantiate them. Would your parents be able to retrieve your body? Or would they just burn you without even sending a letter back home?

Feyd’s hand slid up the base of your neck, gripping at your hair. Did he not understand how much danger you were in? Maybe he didn’t care afterall. His knee slid between your legs, forcing them open.

“What are you doing?” You gripped at the back of his shirt, trying to pull him away from you, hoping that there was some place in this cramped space that you could hide. The voices were getting even closer now, searching for where they thought that you might be hiding. It was only a matter of time before they found you.

“Saving your life.” He captured your lips in a bruising kiss, his hand sliding out of your hair so that he could begin undoing the front of your blouse. You could hear the sheer fabric of your tunic ripping beneath his hands in his desperate attempt to get to you.

All you could do was grip onto him for dear life, unable to free yourself to even utter a cry. You were unsure as to how doing this would save you, but you were losing the ability to care much at all. If these were going to be your final moments then so be it.

So you gave in to the desire. You gave into the wanting and the needing. You fed the ache that had been plaguing you.

Your lips moved against his, parting so that you could fully taste him. His hands felt firm on your chest as he finally was able to tear you free of the cloth. The air was cold on your hot chest, and yet his hands were scalding against your skin. You tried to remind yourself that none of this was right, but it wasn’t working. His tongue lapped at the roof of your mouth and your own brushed up to meet his.

More. More. You needed more of him.

Your hands shook as they began pushing up at the fabric of his training gear. The breathable fabric stretched as you pressed your hand against his chest, finally allowing yourself to feel the hard planes of his muscles. You felt his stomach tighten as your fingers glided along his skin. You were unsure as to what you were searching for, but your body was acting on pure instinct. Your fingers reached up and up until they finally slid free of the fabric at his collar bones only to wrap around his throat.

He groaned into your mouth, his thumb brushing against your nipple. It hardened in response to the sudden attention it was getting. His knee pressed further against your thighs, spreading your legs out further for him until he was finally at the apex of your thighs. His hand flew from your breast to your hips, moving them for you against him. The friction caused your head to roll back against the wall behind you, disrupting the kiss as pleasure rocked through you. Never in your life had you ever felt anything quite like this.

He continued to rock you back against his thigh, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on your face. He was watching you intently, hell bent on doing whatever it was that he wanted to do to your body. You were unsure of his goal and yet you didn’t care. Something was building inside of you- a sound, a cry, a sob. . . you weren’t certain. It just felt so good. Too good.

He must have seen your lips part and was quick to press a kiss against them in an attempt to muffle the sound. Your knees felt weak beneath you, and if it wasn’t for his dutiful hands that gripped at your thighs then you were sure that you would have fallen ages ago.

You remembered how he had felt against you the other night and you wondered if that was a reaction that you had somehow unknowingly caused. You wanted to feel him again. You wanted to know whether or not he was enjoying himself, so you freed his neck and instead pressed your hand against the front of his pants. What had gotten into you? What were you even doing?

But he was hard against your hand and that was enough for you to begin rocking your hips against his knee without his prompting hands.

The feeling of your tiny palm cupping him through his pants was more than enough. His hips jerked forward, his eyes flying open at the realization that the object of his lifelong obsessions was willingly touching him like this. He was going to fuck you in this closet if the two of you weren’t found. Feyd didn’t want it to happen like this. . . but he was losing what little control he had left.

He loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you he loved you.

“I-”

The door flew open the second he opened his mouth, the bright light momentarily blinding him. His body moved on its own, Feyd’s hands moving from your hips up to your shoulders so that he could turn you, using his body to shield you from view. His chest moved up and down rapidly as he gulped down breaths, trying hard to calm himself and his pounding heart.

There was an unfamiliar man holding the door to the closet, eyes wide as he took in the site of the two of you. It took him a few seconds to really register what was going on in the small broom closet, and then another to fully grasp the fact that he had made a grave mistake.

“I-I-I had no clue it was you, sir.” The uniformed man stepped back, trying to show the Na-Baron respect.

You watched in real time as something pure and terrifying bled its way into Feyd’s expression. It had chills running up your spine.

“Turn your gaze away from her.” His voice was so low that you could barely understand what he was saying. “Now.”The other male quickly got the hint, turning his entire body to face the other direction. His back was ram-rod straight and you watched with a slack jaw as his knees began to quiver.

You wouldn’t want to turn your back on a rabid beast either.

“Just get me out of here. Please.” You spoke as quietly as you could, covering the scraps of material that used to be your blouse tight to your exposed chest.

Killing the random guard in plain sight would attract a small crowd. You watched as Feyd weighed his options, and you bet that the two blades that were still strapped to his back were calling out to him.

Silently Feyd pulled you out of the closet, holding you so tightly to his chest that your arm became uncomfortably pinned against you.

The two of you walked through the halls silently, his eyes burning holes into the faces of anyone that even glanced in your direction. The embarrassment of being so exposed in front of everyone had you crawling out of your own skin. No one had seen you naked before- aside from the women that had been tasked to take care of you over the years. All you could do to try and keep yourself from crying was stare down at the floor, watching the pale man’s black boots make their way soundlessly through the halls. Everything he did was so graceful it seemed.

The blood drained from your face as you were suddenly reminded of the fact that he had seen your chest completely exposed. He’d felt you, kissed you, and pleasured you nearly to the point of your undoing.

And you had let him. You put up no resistance at all.

Even worse, you wanted him to do all of those things to you. If you hadn’t been caught then how far would you have let things continue? In that moment you realized that you would have let him take you. You knew yourself well enough to know that you would have let him take your virginity in a broom closet.

“No one is looking at you,” He seemed to sense your sudden mortification somehow. “I promise. I’d kill them otherwise.” And you knew he was telling the truth. He was probably taking an internal tally of anyone that started for too long, only so that he could circle back for them later.

All you could do was nod your head and follow him down the hall, stopping only when he reached into his pocket and grabbed his own keycard, letting the two of you back into your room.

You kept your chest covered with your hands as the two of you broke away. You knew that it was pointless, but the moment was gone and your panic had returned tenfold.

“Now tell me,” He turned to face you and you watched as his lips turned down at the corners in slight disappointment when he noticed your sudden modesty. “What were you doing over there? Be honest.”

You couldn’t be honest and it pained you to know that. Feyd was still a Harkonnen. He was loyal to them, not an Atreides.

“Why did you kiss me?” You were answering a question with another question, but you needed to know. Urgently.

He licked his lips, as though he was being reminded of the moment. “No one would ask questions.”

Anger struck you hard in the gut. He had used the moment as a distraction? You felt like an idiot, already regretting the fact that you had allowed him to use your body like that.

“I didn’t mean to take it that far. It’s becoming harder and harder to control myself.” He must have noticed the hurt in your eyes. “I want you. Not because we are getting married. . . but because I want you.” He was being uncharacteristically emotional today.

You weren’t sure what that statement truly meant, but it seemed heavy- heavy enough that you felt the need to be more forthcoming with him.

“I was trying to make my way into the Baron’s office.” A half truth, then. It was easier than telling him everything. “But it was locked.”

Feyd’s eyes never left your face. They were much softer than they had been in the hallway, almost as though all of the hatred had melted away completely. He looked at you like he cared for you. . . and that was scary.

“I don’t know why it hurts so much. . . but it does.” His voice was flat, almost as though he was distracted while he continued to watch you. “I know you’re lying to me. My uncle’s office is only ever locked after dinner, which is for safety reasons.”

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

“Only my uncle has clearance to get into that room. The guards in the left wing only ever act on mine or the Baron’s orders. They’re all loyal to a fault. . . so tell me. Did you get into his office?”

You completely ignored his line of questioning, distracted by something he had said.

“So none of them would allow someone other than the Baron himself to enter that room?” Your voice shook with fear, your eyes widening as all the pieces started coming together.

“No,” He looked confused as your lips parted in a silent scream. “What? What is that face for?”

You felt more alone than you ever had in your entire life. He was out to kill you. . . There would be no escaping this place alive. Your parents had been set up and had given you away to murderers-

“The guard that tried to kill me. . .” You couldn’t keep your voice from shaking. “What wing did he belong to?”

Feyd’s muscles went rigid beneath his shirt, as though he was just now coming to some conclusions of his own. “The left.”

The breath was knocked from your lungs as the full weight of everything crashed into you.

You were stuck on an alien planet with no way home, Feyd Rautha was going to become your husband in just two days, you wanted Feyd so badly it hurt you. . .

And his uncle was plotting to kill you.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

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etherfabric · 3 months

Text

Messages from Your Protector

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

Pile 1

The Fool, The Moon rx

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Oh my dear. I see how scared you are. I know this is nothing like anything before. But somehow also exactly like the thing you were running from your whole life. I know how unclear everything seems. How uncertain. You don't dare to move one inch.

Let me tell you now: The inch is enough. And you can take all the time you need. You can't see that from where you are, but from where I am, I can tell that time isn't important. Not at all. It doesn't make sense to you, nothing lately really does. All you had was your mind to rely on, and it's slipping away from you in ways you tried to avoid your whole life. They called you crazy, a liar, a drama queen. So you swore to always pay attention to the exterior, and only stick to the hard facts, to never be accused of that again.

And now suddenly everything turns to smoke. Nothing solid, no foundation to lean on, no former structure you recognize.

You might feel doomed, cursed, imprisoned. Imprisoned in something only you can see and feel, and not even those sensory informations seems reliable. Let me tell you, my precious lightbeam: This is your initiation. It is not for nothing. Far from it.

Not everyone is called to do this, and those who are, rarely feel "good" (in the former sense of the word) during it. It's one of the highest gifts the Universe can bestow upon you, but the process of shedding and rebuilding has phases of liminality that can't be skipped. You ask why this is happening? So you have only one thing left to use and turn to, so it becomes stronger than ever: Your faith. That crazy, invisible, unprovable thing you felt your whole life and ran from. Now it's your last resort. It seems cruel, but once you allow yourself to fully embrace it, be assured, we will bathe you in light and miracles that will carry you across this abyss. Just ask. Invite us, and we will come. The famous leap of faith is your only means of transportation right now, so to speak.

We love you so, so much. And honestly, you are doing amazing already. On our plane, your light is shining brighter than ever. We were never this close to you, and we love it. We know it doesn't feel this way all the time for you, but please listen to your intuition more. It's there to help you, not harm you. Those that judged you anytime you acted upon it are on their own, separate path. Don't let them sway you. Deep inside, you know it's something big and important, what is happening right now. You are doing amazing. We love you so much. I can't say it enough. You will get through this and be thankful. Later. Maybe you can find a smidge of that gratitude now. When you let your true opinion arise within, and dare to listen.

Pile 2

7 of Pentacles rx, 10 of Pentacles

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It's already done. The seeds are planted. This is a time of winding down, breathing in what you already have, let it enrich and nourish you. No one will come and take it away, claiming you are "too lazy" or "ungrateful" to "deserve it". Who told you this? Don't you know they were talking to themselves? To their own shadow, which they cast upon you, to not be blinded by your light? My dearest soul star. Can't you feel it, behind the worry and fear, underneath it all - the hum of completion? It surrounds you, it permeates the space between your atoms, it carries you across this cosmos.

Just imagine this gigantic planet you sit upon, its own attraction to you keeping you grounded. You belong here. You deserve everything that Life gave you. You deserve everything you worked for, and also everything you never worked for and just have, AND you deserve everything that is to come. Oh, there is a lot to come. So many blessings. You don't know even half if it yet. And that's exactly how it's supposed to be.

We don't want you to be exhausted from worry when we bring it to you. We want you to be soft and open, so it can touch your inner being - the only place where true satisfaction can take place. Look around you. The room you are in, or the environment you reside in for now. All this exists at the same time as you. Isn't that proof enough? Who else should it be for? Dare to connect to it, through whatever means sound right. Dare to delve into it. Dare to lay your hands on it, smell it, taste it, observe it, hear it. Draw pictures of it, in your mind, on a canvas, in the dirt on the ground. You are a part of all of it. You are part of the world to everyone else!

The time it takes to get you there is meant for you to enjoy what you have so far. Things will change, and the present will be another shape than the current one. So enjoy it while it lasts, until the upgrade arrives. Remember how desperate the past version of you was for so many of these circumstances? Get back in touch with them to feel their bliss and satisfaction. They are always there to help you. All the versions of you, past, present and future. They all love you in their own way, and they all are connected to you and bring their talents and wisdom as soon as you let them speak. This can be in a dream, a song, a memory, a word you read somewhere that tugs at you. Maybe a smell, or a name. Follow the thread, make space for the unraveling, and be assured we are always protecting you from what could truly be harmful. Nothing you can't take.

Admittedly, our relationship to pain is a rather abstract one compared to your incarnated self - so apologies for sounding aloof - but it carries deep truths, and is never the whole story. Promised. It will pass. You are doing so well. We love you so much more than you can imagine. For now. Soon, you will have a better idea. If you ever need our help, just call us. However feels most authentic. A thought is enough. Then listen for our signs, and dare to believe them, just like we believe in you.

Pile 3

The Star, Knight of Wands

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We are sending you support on all dimensions. You won't see it coming. It won't look like it moments before the event (or several events...) and you will be close to giving up on hope. The rhythm of the recent days was just the "right" wrong mixture of stagnation and overwhelming, sudden changes, and you are exhausted. You have lost things that you held very, very close to your heart, and you thought they belonged to your destiny.

Memories, associations, dreams, fragments of what is lost haunt you, and you try so desperately to make it fit into the picture. Sure this mean it will come back...? Well. Yes and No. Yes on the spiritual, emotional, ethereal plane - what you felt with them is just an appetizer compared to what's to come. It's a manifestation upgraded tenfold. But no, it won't be them exactly. I am so sorry for your pain - but I am not sorry for the context in which this loss happened, because I see the purpose it serves clear as day. You have to wait and see for it to unfold before your very eyes (at least the first two of them), and many fears and worries birthed from past disappointments will pop up.

Don't read those as prophecies - they are asking to be purged! So the canvas is clear for your upcoming masterpiece. It will happen at just the right time. It's not going anywhere. It is yours, and it will wait until you are ready. Promised. Your pace is just the right pace. Listen to your emotions, as untamable they might seem at times. Learn to dance with them, instead of fighting against them, and be it just one intentional second for starters. Your limits are there for a reason, and no one wants you to hurt yourself unnecessarily in the process. You deserve the reassurance and patience you need, and we hold that frequency towards you all the time.

There are judgements from people from your past still attached to what you deem true, and to which you assigned great meaning and weight in how you should be treated by the Universe, and all the people in it. You don't dare to go near them - they bite back. Like a wounded animal. Let's see how gentle you can go with them. We assure you, they will calm down as soon as they know you mean no harm. As soon as they feel you have the same patience and reassurance avaible for them you deserve. Watch the alchemy unfold, and bask in your accomplishments. This is the stuff transformation is made of. We are so freaking proud of you!

Pile 4

The Hermit, The Moon

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What you bring to the world is something not many will understand. We see your dedication, and be assured, you are on the path that was agreed upon before you came here. The unfolding of your inner voice is a marvelous endeavor without any witnesses, just yours to experience. You have never been so lonely and so rich in your whole life. And this is just the beginning.

We protect you from the harm that could sway you, but not the harm that can teach you. There are people around you who are blind to the light within, even scared when it shows up. They don't know what it means, at least not from their limited perspective they deem the whole truth. We see you trying to extend a helping hand, but this is our influence when they don't take it. You need all this energy for the next phase of transformation.

Your discipline and strategy so far has served you well, and we command you for your endurance. This is a whole new game, and you play it quite well. But be warned - this won't last forever. You might dream about what soon will finally be, to exchange it for what is right now. You will miss this once it's over. Not because the future is so grim - on the contrary. But because the beauty of inner transformation is not a constant or easily accessible one, and you either pay close attention to decipher the music in it now, or you will only have the tinted glass of nostalgia as a way back to it. What seems like a chore now will soon be the holder of self love when you look back on it. This might mean nothing to you, or even come across as accusatory, or threatening even.

We never mean harm. We are light. We are love. Just like you. What we want to invite you to is daring to be grateful to be you right now. This version of you won't last forever, so why not love it? Just for what it is?

That is why we send you this tsunami of solitude. So you and you can finally get a room and connect. Look each other in the eyes, deeply. And see how you are just perfect for each other, and exactly what you need and want. After all, this is what you chose. This is exactly your style. And it suits you so, so well.

#tarot reading #pick a card #pick a card reading

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trulyumai · 3 months

Text

Protector of his Woman

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler x Reader

Synopsis: Leaving the kingdom was a choice, but leaving his wife? Out of the question.

Warnings: Talk of violence/Death.

Enjoy!

“Does thou take me for a fool?”

The pale flame stood tall, beside him his wife gripped onto the forearm placed in front of her frame. She stood just behind said man, looking away from the escalating scene. Too distracted by the swiveling trees and smell of pine wafting through the air.

“Of course not, your grace! Its, well, your mother thought it best-”

“My mother disgraces me with such a request, yet is unfit to be present?”

The golden soldier gulped, a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his brow, illuminating his face with a light sheen.

“N-no, she traveled to the capital today, y-your grace.”

The knight squinted. His posture was rigid and offended by the mere man's presence.

He stood on their porch, by their house and demanded his attention to the capital?

How offensive, how misinformed how-

“Husband?”

The burning flames hushed beneath his palms as the attention diverted from the man, to the small women beside him.

“Wife,”

With half lidded eyes, the man moved a hand towards her backside and rested it upon her lower spine. The aura shifted, the heat died down and the ambiance of nature could once more be heard. (Rather than the sizzling of a flame that grew onto the man's digits.)

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad visit. It has been a while since our last outing.” He felt the strokes upon his arm, soothingly moving up and down, up and down.

“Leave us,” Messmer didn’t need to look up once more, as the soldier fled down their stone walkway.

“She insults us, thou knows of her intentions.”

His gaze stuck to her lucky honeydew on bread, it stayed there globbing onto each detail. Her eyes were bright today, full of light and love. Yet there was also worry there, and Messmer bit his tongue for placing such a feeling onto her. Her form sagged beside his, most of his arm held her body up, halting it from falling upon the rocks.

“She does,” a pause

“But she’s your mother, to not make an appearance would surely soil your reputation, my love.”

“Have I not done enough? The bodies that lay upon the mountains, are they not proof of my unwavering loyalty?” His voice raised, startling the shorter woman, moving forward he gestured his hands around their vicinity.

“All of this, all of it! It's safe because I deemed it so. Not the lord Godwyn, Not the unbeatable Melania. Me. The beholder of flames! Yet thee can be ruined- butchered, for not returning to an unloving kingdom?”

Mouth dry, she tried to speak- to comfort the rising temper of the man but no words budged. His eyes burned bright, they looked right through her.

“No. I will not be returning, dear wife. For my place is here, by your side, in this house that I built for us,” Cautiously the knight placed himself back in front of her, and to her surprise, bent down on his knees.

“Messmer! Get up this instant, your knees-”

A big palm covered her lips, its texture rough and calloused. It was so warm compared to the nipping air around them. And although she tried to be mad- she really did, it was hard when such a warmth was comforting to the girl.

“My wife, I will protect thy until the flames of this land die out, until there's no one left but us to occupy such a fool of a kingdom,”

“However,”

The bigger man's hand dropped from her lips, both of his limbs instead wrapped themselves around her being, until his elbows molded together.

“Do not ask me to leave your side again. Promise me.”

“Husband… I simply canno-

“Promise me!” The man shouted, his grip tightened fastly around her.

Her nails dug into the man's wrists, and although she wasn’t in pain, his fervent yet fierce attitude scattered her mind. She wasn’t used to such a ferocity of emotion emitting from the man, aimed at her no less.

“I- I promise, I promise my love!”

As if those were the words he was waiting for all his life, the man crumpled beneath her frame, his head buried between the ripples of her dress, with his nose digging into her stomach.

She didn't know just how far such a devotion could- would go for the maroon knight.

For how could she see the future, wrapped in nothing but flame and immorality?

“I adore you, little wife,” Yellowed iris’ glanced upon her delicate ones.

A laugh broke out between her lips, enchanting the man entirely.

“And I you, Husband.”

As if starved the man leaned up quickly; hungrily, to lock his lips against hers. Broken skin connected with softened and smooth, Messmer moaned out in content.

If his wife was to be the end of the world, he would be her weapon. His flames would bathe her with as much loyalty he could give.

What would he need a broken kingdom for, when such a devoted wife lay in his arms?

#elden ring dlc #Elden Ring #Messmer #Messmer the impaler #Messmer x you #Messmer x reader #Messmer the impaler x reader #video game #video game x reader #Spotify

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sweetbans29 · 4 months

Text

Protector - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: 3 times Caitlin is overprotective

Warnings: jealous(ish) Caitlin

Word Count: 2.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here's another one for you!

one. fall.

You have no idea why you thought it would be a good idea to go rollerblading. It has been years since you put them on but you begged Caitlin all day saying it would be a fun little outing.

You were completely wrong. It wasn't even 5 minutes in when you fell and got a pretty nasty scrap on your knee.

It takes a few seconds before you feel like you can stand and when you do you wince then sit back down.

Caitlin is looking at our scrap with furrowed eyebrows as she examines what the best course of action would be.

"We should get you home to clean that up, I don't want it to get infected," Caitlin says as her eyes are still glued to your knee.

"No, we just started. I want to keep going," you combat and try to stand again.

Once you are on your feet, you realize you can barely move your leg. You try to hide the pain you are in from your girlfriend but have a hard time hiding anything when you begin to put any sort of pressure on your left leg.

"Okay that is it," Caitlin says as she turns around and hoists you up on her back. She leave both of your rollerblades where you fell and is now carrying you back to your apartment in her socks.

"Cait! I am fine!" You say frustrated that your cute date has been cut short.

"You are not fine." She mumbles as she marches back. "I am going to inspect it after I disinfect it and we will see if I need to take you to urgent care to get it stitched."

"Babe, chill - I am okay." You say, then realize it is a mistake.

Her head whips around as she comes to a complete stop. You can only see her profile but you know she is giving you her death stare.

You learned early on in your relationship how protective Caitlin can be. At first, you thought it was normal but then one of her teammates pointed out how whenever you are in any sort of compromising situation - both physical or mental, Caitlin is right there watching over you. It is always endearing, but could also be too much at times.

You kiss her shoulder and you feel her relax.

The two of you make your way into your apartment. She places you on the kitchen counter as she makes her way to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

While she is gone, you attempt to stand up, putting most of your weight on your hands as you slowly lower yourself to the ground. Once you are down on your right foot, you slowly shift your weight to your left and feel pain shoot to your knee. You hiss and begin to lose your balance, trying to grab onto the counter.

Before you know it you feel yourself going down. You mentally brace for your second impact on the ground today but it never comes.

Cait has made her way back to you and has caught you mid-fall, effortlessly lifting you back up and sitting you back down on the counter.

"Do not do that again," is all she says as she opens the first aid kit.

You listen and feel bad for trying to get down on your own. You know Caitlin is doing everything in her power to care for you and you are doing everything you can to do it yourself.

Caitlin takes her time as she disinfects the wound, her hands are the most gentle they have ever been. She is locked in on ensuring she does a thorough job and you do everything in your power to not flinch away from her touch.

You can begin to see steam come out to Caitlin's ears as she is working so intricately on your wound. You bring your hand to brush down the left side of her head.

"I'm sorry I forced you to go rollerblading." You say looking at her. "And I am sorry I fell and that you have to take care of me." This is the best you can do to say Caitlin was right about the whole rollerblading idea.

She looks up at you for the first time since last scolding you for moving.

"You don't need to apologize, babe. I know you didn't do this on purpose." She says as she kisses your right knee. You give her a half smile as she places a bandage on your knee. She stands and you pull her in between your legs and wrap your arms around her for a hug.

She wraps her arms around you and lets out a sigh. The second she does, you know it has been one she has been holding in for a while now.

You rub her back knowing the stress you have caused her this afternoon. Her body relaxes into yours and you can't imagine having anyone else take care of you the way Cait does.

two. handsy.

It’s the Hawkeyes first game in March Madness and you could not be more excited.

Typically you attend games with your friends or sit with Caitlin's family but in this game, Caitlin was able to score you a courtside seat which you gladly accepted.

You get to the game and get escorted to your seat. You chose a simple outfit that consisted of black jeans, some black pumps, and of course your girl’s jersey.

As you sit down you notice the seats around you are empty, you know they will fill up right before tipoff.

You watch the girls come out and begin their warm-ups. You see Caitlin looks around the court until her eyes land on you. Giving her a little wave, she smiles and gives a wave back. Typically you don't drag Cait's attention away from the game but being so close and seeing her look for you, you couldn't help it.

As they are announcing the teams, the people next to you show up. You don't pay them much attention as they begin to announce the Hawkeyes, cheering on Caitlin as she makes her way onto the floor.

The game begins and you are locked into watching Caitlin dominate the court.

You are pulled away from the game when you feel a tap on your thigh. Looking away from the game for a second, you turn to the girl sitting next to you.

She points down to the ground where her lipgloss has rolled by your foot. You pick it up and hand it to her with a smile then turn your attention back to the court.

The first time out is called and you are able to sit back in your chair and breathe for a minute. Watching Caitlin always has your elbows on your knees, holding your breath, with your eyes on her. So any time they call a time-out or the quarter ends you are able to sit back and release the tension your body holds.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted you from the game," the girl next to you says.

You giver her a smile, "Oh you are good!"

"I'm Sarah," she extends her hand. You shake it and introduce yourself.

The game begins again and you assume your position. You cheer on the team as they put in work to stay ahead of the other team. You are on the edge of your seat and don't realize these are folding seats as you push it back slightly, losing your balance.

Just as you are about to fall you feel arms come around you as Sarah has effortlessly caught you and saved you from making a fool of yourself. You are in an awkward squat for .5 seconds as she scoots your chair back to support you. As you sit, your hand comes to her lower thigh as you mumble a thank you, still embarrassed.

"Hey you're good babe, I won't let you fall," she says with a beaming smile. You give her a small smile and nod, thanking her.

Your attention goes back to your girl who you notice has eyes on you. She is staring directly at you, eyes going between you and the girl sitting next to you. Sending you girl a nod, you lock back into the game.

It isn't long after that the half is announced and the girl next to you starts making conversation with you. You don't want to be rude and enter into the light conversation. She stops what she is saying then takes her finger and removes a hair that got caught on your lip. Her finger comes and brushes your cheek and you feel like this is going a little too far.

"Sarah, you seem like a really nice girl but I'm in a relationship." You say.

"Oh my gosh, I promise I am not hitting on you!" She says and introduces you to the girl next to her who's her wife.

A blush instantly makes its way to your face as you feel the fullness of the embarrassment that has overtaken your body. Sarah then puts her arm around you and gives you a side hug as you hide your face in your hands.

Little did you know that Caitlin had seen the whole interaction and had quite frankly had enough of whatever was happening on the sidelines.

Taking only a few giant strides, she is now in front of you.

"Cait!" You yell surprised she has abandoned her post before the fourth quarter.

She is looking right at Sarah, eyes burning into the girl next to you.

"I'm going to need you to remove your arm from my girl and keep your hands to yourself." She says as she removes her arm from you, setting Sarah's hand on her lap and patting it.

"Caitlin," you try getting her attention to let her know the newfound fact that Sarah is indeed not hitting on you.

Caitlin just goes on to tell Sarah that you are happily in a relationship and that she doesn't need the distraction of someone hitting on her girlfriend every 5 minutes.

You get fed up, standing and grabbing Caitlin's face.

"Sarah is married and you are the only one for me!" You yell at her so she can hear you over the crowd. She freezes and now it is her turn to feel the heat of embarrassment creep into her cheeks.

You place a little kiss on her nose and release her, turning her shoulders back to the court and pushing her towards Gabby who checks in with Cait. Caitlin brushes her off as she can't shake the smile on her face.

Your nose kisses are her favorite.

three. work.

Caitlin is currently sitting in the rolling chair right next to yours, tossing up a lacrosse ball as she waits for you to finish up some admin work.

Your staff decided to do its first ever 'bring your spouse into work day'. You thought it was silly considering your company is literally a team of rugby players but caved in when you told Caitlin about it and she was completely on board.

Caitlin and you weren't married yet but had been dating since high school. The two of you talked about marriage quite frequently but wanted to wait until after college to figure it all out. You both knew it was coming but just a matter of when.

"I am almost done here and then we will head out to the field," you say finishing up one of your reports. Caitlin nods, which is unseen to you but you know she is content. Between her practices, games, your work, and school - any time the two of you got together was gold.

You finish up and the two of you head out to the field. You work as a part of the sports medicine team for a local rugby team. It was perfect because it's what you are studying in school and will look good when on your resume. Your goal is to go into the WNBA with Caitlin's team wherever she is drafted.

During the practice, it is a lot of retaping and making sure all the players have what they need. Caitlin watches in awe as these giant guys come up to her girl needing her help with something. You aren't the tallest person to begin with but seeing these full-grown men come up to you makes Caitlin so proud.

Once practice is done - you and Cait go back to your office knowing the fun has just begun. Caitlin takes a seat back in the rolling chair as you grab a pile of towels and make sure your massage table is out and prepped.

Aside from taping, one of your main jobs was massaging out the guys at the end of practice and/or games if needed.

Caitlin knows what you do - you talk about frequently when your job is ever brought up in conversation. She knows what you do firsthand as you have spent countless hours rubbing out knots that she has built up from her own sport. But she was not ready for what she was about to witness.

The first player comes in and you and he joke around as he gets set on the table. By the sounds of it, he is in here after every practice.

He sets himself on his side and hikes up his shorts on his right leg as he twists to the all too familiar position. You place a towel on his upper thigh and glut. As you begin to work out his glut he starts groaning in pain.

You laugh as you continue to work him out. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, trying to get any sort of pressure released as your elbow assaults his knot. Caitlin's eyes are on the player's hand that is clutching your shoulder now.

You ease up and nudge his hand off, making a joke that he is making you uncomfortable. Caitlin released the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

The thing is - Caitlin is beyond secure in your relationship. She has no doubts that you are hers and only hers but seeing this guy wither under your touch has a fire burning within her. At this moment, it provided no comfort to Caitlin knowing how good your massages are.

Caitlin sits there with her arms crossed as you finish working with the guy. The guy thanks you and heads out as you have a little break.

"I don't know if I like this," Caitlin says, arms still crossed as she is leaning back in her chair.

You shoot her a smile and make your way to her.

"You know best what these hands can do," you say with a shrug and a little smirk. Her eyes widen, not expecting that response from you as the next guy walks in. You lean over and kiss her on the head as you greet the next player.

The next player is similar except you are working out the back of his calves and thighs. He keeps moaning and groaning which you laugh at. Caitlin knows the sounds the guy is making are due to the pain he is in but she can’t help but feel jealousy rise within her.

Again, she knows this is your job and she knows that she is the one you come home to every night but it is wild to her that these guys are squirming at your touch.

This player is feeling so much pain that he reaches back and grabs the back of your thigh just to hold onto something and Caitlin can see him squeeze it.

She leans over and grabs the guy's hand, removing it from your leg.

“Okay that’s enough,” Caitlin says putting her hand on your thigh where she just removed his.

The player apologizes and you give Cait a questioning look.

She doesn’t say anything to you but lets you finish the massage. The player grips the table until you are finished and thanks you upon leaving.

“What was that about babe?” You ask putting everything away.

“There is no reason for them to touch you - especially the way the second guy was. It’s inappropriate,” she says.

“It’s a reflex, it means nothing. And trust me, I always have them remove it.” You say walking up to her.

You stand in between her legs as her hands come up to find the back of your thighs. She looks up at you for a second then her head falls to your stomach. Your hands come to her head and soothe her hair over.

“Your hands are the only ones I want on my body babe.” You say in a sweet tone.

“They better be,” she says giving your legs a squeeze as she pulls you in and hugs your middle.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this lil cute one. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #22

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sexilene · 5 months

Note

Hi angel! thoughts on 80s!slasher!jj ?? I loveee ur work btw! sending hugs and kisses! 💗

ofccc!! this is fun lol - 80s!slasher!jj

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, violence, jealous!jj, death, slight breeding kink, threats, obsessed!jj, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

you and jj would have never become friends if you both hadn't met while working together at the little fast-food diner inside the mall. he was usually working in the back, preparing the food, and you were usually on server duty. with your short white tennis skirt and the diner polo shirt uniform you could usually draw attention from guys who wanna take you out and possibly eat you, you were so sweet. but there were days when you and jj would both be on cashier duty, those were his and your favorite days, it was basically like hanging out all day side by side.

as the day dragged on it was getting closer to closing time, thank goodness you thought, already super exhausted. after a few minutes a group of preppy jerk jocks come in, one of the guys walking up to your register with a stupid smirk on his face, danny. "hey babygirl, can i get uh, the number 5 with a milkshake anduh- your number? " he tilts his head up, proud of his little pickup line. you shake your head with a small smile and silently scoff at his stupidity. jj who is currently helping another customer, listens in and watches the interaction by side eyeing you both every few seconds. jj's jaw ticks as he tries to let you handle it.

"a number 5 will that be all?" you continue to try and be professional with a sweet smile.

"uh no actually, how about- you let me take you to the prom," he smirks again.

"i'm actually out of town that day so-" you tilt your head and act uninterested.

"oh cuhmon- it'll be fun, you know you want to. i even booked a hotel room for that night and we'll-" danny persists further until he's interrupted by jj who snaps his head toward us.

"she said no man." jj warns, danny's mouth agape as he turns over to look at jj.

"was i talking to you maybank? cuz uh- i don't think i was." danny snickers almost trying to size jj up.

"i don't give a shit, she's clearly not interested." jj squints his eyes and nods to himself.

"oh woah! you've got yourself a little protector huh? no way this guy is your boyfriend right?" the guy turns to you and then back to jj. "i mean look at you! she's a total betty and you...you and your deadbeat dad aren't even good enough to scrape the dirt off our shoes." the boy scoffs and the rest of his friends snicker on cue.

jj tongues his cheek and grins in faux amusement, the guy turns around to walk off like a winner when jj reaches his arm out and taps the guy's shoulder. "hey man you forgot your-" jj grabs one of the milkshakes ready on the counter and throws it in the asshole's face, 'ruining' danny's gelled hair and expensive polo shirt. the diner fills with gasps, 'ooohs' and snickers.

"milkshake." jj finishes his sentence, and laughes through his nose. you stand there eyes wide as danny wipes the melted pink milk off his eyelids. "quit fuckin' around and get outta here" jj shoos the guy away with the motion of his hand as the humiliated boy walks away shouting back loudly "you are so dead maybank!"

"whata piece of shit." jj mumbles and slams his hand on the counter and turns to see the manager shaking his head, disappointed. jj goes into the kitchen leaving you there to process what just happened.

as the restaurant was about to close, you and jj were the only ones left, since you would have been closing together that night. the manager did fire him but somehow managed to stick around without him seeing jj.

you decided to let him do this thing inside the kitchen while you did the final table wipe-downs and setting up everything for tomorrow morning, time after time playing in the background. you hear some concerning noises coming from the kitchen area, knowing only jj was in there makes you stop and wonder why all the banging?, when another loud scary sound can be heard throughout the diner. you run behind the counter and around the corner to see what was making that noise, your eyes land on danny, dead, laying flat on his back on the floor with his face all burnt, bubbling, and bloody. you let out a horrified scream and cover your mouth immediately afterward, stumbling backward a bit and feeling nauseous. 'how did danny even end up back here?' you thought.

you feel your back bump into something, and you let out another spooked yelp, you feel two strong hands spin you around and when you look up, you realize it's only jj.

"jj, danny...he must have- the deep fryer-" you stutter, and he shushes you "i know, i know."

"we have to call the police! i-is he dead? oh god, i'm gonna be sick..." tears start to fall down your cheeks, terrified and confused by how jj isn't freaking out or doing anything about it. you squirm out of his grip and back away from him.

"jj? did you hurt danny? oh my god, did you burn his face off?" you ask with wide eyes, chest heaving.

jj nods but he doesn't look remorseful. you start to burst out in tears, unsure of what to do, you look over at the door and back over at jj who gives you a look of warning. he's all sweaty and dirty, his white shirt stained with grease and blood.

the jukebox continues to play music, where otherwise silence would fill the diner. you decide to make a run for the door, but he beats you to that. jj manages to stand in front of you, clenching his jaw and squinting his eyes.

"i did that for you, i did it to protect you." he spits, looking down at you in disappointment.

"you're scaring me jj" you whine.

"why? i think you're being ungrateful." he whispers, looking down at you.

"you murdered him! jj you'll get in so much trouble, they'll know you did it!"

"no, manager man thought i left already..and i'll get him outta here so" he shrugs.

you whine again, eyes moving towards where danny was lying on the ground. jj snaps his fingers in front of your face to get you to pay attention to him again.

"what you want him? you liked that guy? huh?" he spits out frustratedly. you shake your head no, now too afraid to even speak "what so now im the bad guy? cause i got rid of him for YOU!" he shouts and you flinch, unsure of what to do now.

"you know what, fine, i think i deserve a little thank you don't you think?" he clenches his jaw again and yanks at your top pulling you to the other side of the counter, overlooking danny's corpse.

he bends you over and yanks your skirt down, you begin to cry when you realize what he's going to do. "no, jj no, i'm scared please" you sob too frozen in fear to move.

"you should see what i did with the rest of the bodies" he laughs quietly and reaches his hand around your waist to meanly grab your poor cunt, then pulling your panties to the side. you look down at the bloody dead body again and shut your eyes tight, then you feel jj's fat tip teasing your hole, sliding in your stickiness. "no, you are supposed to be my friend jj! friends don't do this!" you mewl.

he wraps his arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock when he starts to push in to keep you from thrashing around. "shush, s'fine see? s'fine drama queen." he grunts in your ear, starting to slowly thrust in and out.

part of you wishes you had the strength to kick him off of you, but the other half is in heaven. "look at danny, you want him? wanna go to the prom with that? hmm?" he taunts, squeezing you tighter in the headlock with his beefy arms when you don't respond which makes you let out a whimpery moan.

"no! no, i don't wanna keep looking at him! it's making me sick!" you cry.

"i know, i know...grossing you out kinda turns me on though," he grunts again and laughs. he spits in his hand and uses that to sloppily rub your clit. the feeling of his spit mixed with your wetness makes you whine.

he keeps on pounding your pussy, letting you out of the headlock, and pushing your tits to press against the countertop. he smiles at all the little 'uh-uh's' you let out with each thrust.

"you feel better? yeah? you calm now?" he hums and brings his hand down to smack your ass causing you to squeal and push your ass out almost asking for more.

"yeah, i know mama, nobody's ever gonna touch you again kay?" his voice soft, making you nod slowly and dazed.

"say thank you and i'll let you cum." he pressures you, so close to spilling all over him.

"mmnnm jay-"

"use your manners c'mon" he cuts you off and brings his hand down again to start to rub your clit faster.

"thank you jayjay, thank you-" your cunt pulsing around his dick as you cum hard.

"atta girl, atta girl" he praises, then pushes into you harder than before, filling you up, and pulling out. he tucks himself away and moves your panties back to cover your cunt and to keep his cum and yours pooled in them. he pats your covered pussy and lets out a satisfied hum.

"go wait by the mall entrance n i'll take you home, jus' gonna get ridda this guy." he pats your ass and walks over to get rid of the bloody body. ᥫ᭡

#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#80s!slasher!jj #80s!jj #80s!jj!au #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank #obx x reader #dark!jj #slasher!jj maybank #slahser!jj #jj maybank smut

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itssliyahhxoxo · 4 months

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖)

(𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Emily and reader dose and interview and things get a little romantic 🤭

You were getting make up done in your assigned room when Emily came in ready to start the interview “you looke beautiful” she softly smiled sitting in the chair next to you. You looked away blushing and giggling,finishing your makeup your makeup artist left leaving you too alone.

“You sure about this” you asked talking her hand in yours “yeah..you” she mumbled bringing your hand the her lips leaving soft kissing on it. You nodded with a soft smile,this was the first interview you two were doing since y’all made your relationship public.

“Today we are here with Emily engstler and her beautiful girlfriend y/n” amber your interviewer smiled. You smiled at her comment,so I’m here just to ask some questions that ‘EVERYONE, wants to know” amber softly laughed.

You both laughed with her as she started “who fell first” she asked “Emily” you answered smiling at her “who fell harder” amber smirked “Emily” you laughed. “Well of course im madly in love with her,but it’s like she falls harder and harder everyday”you softly answered smiling at Emily holding her hand.

“Is that true” Amber asked Emily “very” Emily answered not taking her eyes off of you “well there’s a lot of love in this room” Amber laughed you too laughed with her blushing, “but some other thing that everyone has noticed is that gigantic rock on your finger” Amber smirked.

“Well it’s not a wedding ring” You nervously laughed “yet” Emily cut in smirking at you you paused and looked at her blushing “so you do see yourself getting married one day” Amber asked “hell yeah,one day” Emily chuckled. “And how dose that make you feel y/n” amber looked at you “um im a little bit nervous but ready at the same time,but I do know that we will be in it together” you softly smiled looking back to Emily.

“We’re do you see your relationship in 5 years” Amber smiled seeing the love in your twos eyes “married of course..and maybe some kids in the picture” Emily answered looking at you “how many”you asked a little shocked “three,two boys and a girl” Emily nervously smiled “why two boys” you asked.

“So that our little girl can have two protectors by her side if we’re not here” Emily answered seriously “ok” you nodded “so that’s a yes for kid” Amber asked you “yeah” you sighed with a smile.

“Well that all we have today,thank you both” Amber smiled shaking your hands and saying goodbyes.

Bye the next morning everyone was talking about the interview,the love you too have,and the future you guys may have.

I might do another one but with Paige 👀

#black reader #tumblr fyp #viral #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler

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morning-star-joy · 7 months

Note

Do you ever plan on writing maybe a little pregnancy one shot for our ASHWAH babies? 🥺🫶🏽

So I did actually write a little something playing with the idea last year, but it got buried in my docs and I forgot about it until now! Not an actual pregnancy, but just a short drabble of Joel thinking about it. Here it is!

give you my wild, give you a child

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, ASHWAH Universe

Summary: Joel imagines another kind of life.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI Mentions of previous smut. Joel is a breeding kink legend. Thoughts of pregnancy and body changes through pregnancy. Pregnancy kink.

Wordcount: 1k

A/N: Just a gentle reminder that ASHWAH pregnancy is not canon! It's just an AU exploration, and you do not have to consider it their ending if you don't want it to be. Any direct sequel won't have it <3

Important: Please read this post before engaging with any of my fics. How you can help Palestine.

Joel was trying hard not to think about it.

He had been trying so very hard not to think about it for months now.

But she was making that an extremely difficult task.

Especially with the way she was holding Hope right now, balancing Tommy’s one-year-old daughter on her knees, gently bouncing her up and down with a bright smile at the baby’s giggles that filled the air.

It was one of the many times the two had taken up babysitting their goddaughter, while Tommy and Maria got some much needed rest. But each time Hope was in their house—because that’s what it was now, their house, as she had hardly left it since that night in front of the fireplace when they had finally given into each other—Joel felt an ache in his chest.

That ache slowly grew into an unfamiliar longing, one that only deepened whenever the baby was balanced on her hip as she talked to the child, or rocked her to sleep in her arms.

Joel wasn’t an idiot. He knew how impractical it was, even with how happy they all were to have Hope in their lives.

He knew it wasn’t even something that she really wanted, or at least not the last time they had actually talked about it.

God, no, had been the words she sputtered when he had off-handedly asked her about it in Hope’s nursery a year before, long before they had fallen for each other as fully, as completely as they did.

But he knew how much their goddaughter meant to her, how much her natural instinct of a protector kicked in around the baby, much like his own.

And then there was that one night, when she had worn that lace that he still dreamed about, a memory that possessed his mind whenever they were apart. The way it laid against her skin, sticking to her cunt with her own release when she rode his thigh with a desperation that only became needier when he slipped his cock inside her, and words he’d never forget fell from her lips.

You’d like to put your baby in me, hm?

He’d nearly lost his goddamn mind when she said it, fucking into her with abandon, filthy words he’d never even dreamed of uttering to her streaming from his lips.

And she fucking loved it, begged for it, that pussy that he worshipped squeezing his cock tighter than he’d ever felt as she came from the promises he made of filling her up until it took.

So maybe…

No, Joel thought firmly, trying to cut off that line of thought before his mind could wander down it again, like it had every time they’d taken care of his brother’s child the past few months. He had to stop his brain from concocting an image that was far too sweet, too innocent and idealistic to ever be true.

But as she lifted Hope into the air, grinning up at the baby with a softness on her face he never saw with anybody else—he wondered.

He wondered how she would look with another child in her arms, a precious life made up of both of theirs. Maybe one with his strong nose, and her sharp eyes. Or his stern brow, and her striking hair.

Her hair that he so loved to admire night after night, along with every inch of her, his hands gently running over the body that had become a home to him, while she drifted off to sleep under his familiar touch.

As his fingers skimmed across her chest and down to her stomach some nights, Joel imagined if by some bizarre twist of fate, after one of their heated moments of passion where they got carried away in him filling her up, that it did take.

He pictured the swell of her breasts as she lay naked in their bed; soft, tantalizing flesh that would only grow fuller. The same way her whole body would slowly change, her stomach rounder because of him, as she—

“Joel?”

Blinking rapidly, he was pulled sharply from his silly daydreams, shaking his head to bring himself back to the present and focus on the love of his life as she stood in front of him.

Her eyebrow was arched as she looked over him with a question in those piercing eyes. Hope was balanced on her hip, the baby’s fingers gripping onto her hair, and Joel’s breath caught in his throat. He keenly felt that ache of longing again as she gently removed the small, chubby fingers from her hair and held out the baby to him.

“Can you hold her for a bit?” she asked, and Joel accepted Hope into his arms without question, even though in the back of his mind he kept picturing how it would feel to pass that child from his imagination, the one with some unique mix of their features, between them. “Gotta pee.”

Joel huffed out a quiet laugh, mumbling an affirmative, “No problem.”

Still, she watched him for a moment longer, glancing over his face before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Your mind’s a mile away today,” she mumbled, pulling back to move away, but not before Joel could wrap his free arm around her waist. He brought her back in for a proper kiss, no matter how quick the peck on the lips was so she could run to the bathroom.

“My bad,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze to look down at Hope, even as he felt the familiar intensity of being analyzed by his woman before she moved away.

“Let me see inside your head later,” she called over her shoulder, her voice only half-teasing as she moved towards the bathroom. “I wanna see what has my man so far from planet earth.”

Joel stiffened, holding his breath until he heard the bathroom door close, and only then did he exhale sharply, lifting one hand from where he had brought Hope securely against his chest to rub his thumb and forefinger across his eyes.

Fuck.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller drabble #joel x reader #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #a stranger's heart series #cw pregnancy

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trainsinanime · 2 months

Text

I'm not sure I have anything interesting to say about it, but I am very intrigued by the way The Locked Tomb portrays cavaliers, necromancers and lyctorhood as relationships.

First of all, Necromancer+Cavalier is a metaphor for marriage, that's obvious table stakes. It's explicitly non-romantic (or should be, anyway, in the way the society there has constructed it), but it is intense, highly devoted, starts with a vow, goes "til death do us part" ("one flesh, one end").

In the series Cavalier and Necromancer are a form of gender roles, and they map incredibly well onto the most stereotypical gender roles we have in our society. The Cavalier has stereotypical masculine traits: The fighter, the protector, up on the front lines, physically active. The Necromancer has stereotypical feminine traits: Weak, frail, but whatever the necromantic equivalent of nurturing is, with power over death and life. In the mythology and "gender roles" of the nine houses, necromancy is sort of not quite but still a bit equivalent to "the mystical power of women to bring forth life". And yes, this is all very conservative and cishet-normative and so on.

Of course the books then immediately, from moment one, subvert this on at least three different layers.

The first layer is that the feminine-coded Necromancer is the head of the deadly family in the society, and the masculine-coded Cavalier is the support, the disposable one.

The other layer is that the book distributes the roles of Necromancer and Cavalier basically randomly across the actual genders of the characters. There are male necromancers, female cavaliers, plenty of same-sex pairings and so on.

But the biggest and most important inversion is that when we first meet the nine houses, ten thousand years after a cow-murdering Twitch streamer destroyed the world, nobody actually follows that role assignment to the letter. All the different houses have very different ideas of how Necromancer and Cavalier works in practice.

For example, Abigail Pent and Magnus Quinn are just straight-up married. Their work relationship is romantic, and while that's considered a bit weird by their society, it makes it clear that it can go on like this.

We are actually told that there was something going on in the second house, too, where Judith fell in love with Marta, but there she was gently rebuked and they were just friends instead.

Over in the sixth, Camilla and Palamedes have the inversion of boy necromancer and girl cavalier, but most importantly they have their own very QPR style of relationship that is unique to them and does not fit into either our society's traditional idea of romantic relationship, nor their society's traditional idea of what Necromancer and Cavalier should be like.

The seventh house leans into the frail necromancer/strong protector idea the most, except for [spoilers for the final third of Gideon].

The eighth house leans fully into the idea that the relationship is one-sided, that the cavalier is disposable, and jumps straight off the deep end by making the cavalier genetically bred to be nothing more than a power source.

The third house I've left out so far because, dear god, what even is going on there?

And finally, of course, the ninth, who are technically, strictly speaking, if we're following the metaphor to its logical end, doing a "fake married to lovers" plot.

So with that out of the way, let's look at Lyctorhood. Lyctorhood is fundamentally the final test, the final form of the Necromancer/Cavalier relationship as embedded in that society: The Cavalier has completely dissolved in the marriage, making their "spouse" all-powerful, but ending their own existence. That's the standard of the society as presented to the characters when they discover it, and all of them very quickly have their own ideas about it..

Most characters we know from Canaan House don't actually get that far (and to be fair, I think many of them would not have anything that interesting to say about it), but the ones who do are interesting:

Ianthe is physically repulsed by the idea of healthy relationships, so she has no problem eating Babs for power.

Gideon and Harrow are deeply in love, deeply devoted to each other, and deeply dysfunctional in their own ways, and Harrow manages to find a way to continue a dysfunctional horrible situationship with massive communication issues into Lyctorhood.

Cam and Pal find a different thing entirely, still recognisable as a take on Lyctorhood but also not at all. Instead of one absorbing the other, they fuse into a single new person together, but also in some ways dying in the process.

And it turns out even the older lyctors may not have worked quite as originally designed, with Pyrrha Dve still hanging around in Gideon the First and then finding her own way in Nona the Ninth. Throughout Nona it becomes obvious what was hinted at throughout most of Harrow: Lyctorhood is really just one of many ways for two people to become one. It is not the purest and best form of "one flesh, one end", just the best Johnny Boy could think of. Left to their own devices, we see people left and right figure out new ways to be together as one regardless of what society and God thinks of them.

This is really a key question of the book series: What does it mean for two people to become one? Well, it's up to them, and listening to what God has to say about it is probably not the best way to go. It'll make you end up like Ianthe. Do you want to be Ianthe? Actually don't answer that.

#the locked tomb #Gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth

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mehiwilldoitlater · 12 days

Text

"Get your dirty hands off me! LET GO OF ME!"

"Listen Brother! We must act with respect! We have a lady in our hands!"

The two yaoguais kept on laughing while they were dragging you somewhere, far away from your friend and protector.

Everything happened so fast that you couldn't register the events: the Destined One, and you had to head to the location of the second relic, which you knew was in this desert. It seems easy at first; you thought that you just needed to be as careful as the last time, but something went wrong!

How could you not notice those scouts?! Maybe they were more used to the state of the place; maybe the dust covered the smell for your friend; what you know Is that in a couple of minutes your monkey was now on the ground, his chest puerced with arrows, agonizing yes, but still alive? You tried to help him; take the gourd that you carried with you with your healing wine, but before that, those rats had already captured you. You kept on struggling and fighting as much as you could, but instead they have other plans for you.

"Our second prince will love this snack! I heard that this one is a really good catch."

"Ah! Please! Maybe he'll give us a bite!"

They were planning to give you fkr lunch to their prince.

If it was them or him, you didn't care; what you did care was to survive and help your monkey out of that mess.

You were so focused on trying to break free from care where they were dragging you, but you started to think that it must have been an indoor when the scorching sun wasn't burning your head anymore.

It looked like a cave, maybe a temple inside the mountain based on the carvings on the walls. Columns made of pure stone, stalagmites, and stalactites decorated with sacred figures and prayers, commemorative candles near statues of Buddha and his disciples.

The ones that built the city must have used the caves in order to obtain more spaces, maybe?

You didn't get enough chance to ask since the two rats didn't show any kindness when they literally threw you on the ground.

"Shouldn't we... I don't know...cook her or something?"

"Ah! The prince and the king live their food fresh and squirmy! Now let's go; he doesn't like being seen while he eats."

And while you were Just pick up yourself from the ground, you Heard their soft and fast footsteps, leaving you in this new side of the cave. There were objects, quite a lot even, all of them around, like some small mountains of trinckets and stuff.

Furniture was around, but those were so damaged and old that you questioned if someone could even use it like that. On the walls of the cave, someone had put some decoration—canvases that had almost lost all of their colors, rusted weapons that were long lost—lost the care that they used to, for the exception of a scary giant Chui that was resting on the ground, ready to be picked.

Whoever was able to hold it must have been a quite herculean creature.

There was such a short source of light, coming from one hole in the ceiling of the wall and...from the way they took you in! There was no door, no bars, nothing!

You didn't want to waste anymore time, and so you sprinted in the same direction that the two rats had left you, until a rumble on your feet almost tripped you for the second time.

There was another, then another one.

Footstep, something big was walking towards you.

Two giant feet, covered in fur and some claws that you swear could rip apart your flesh, incased you. The armor was old and marred but still held some remembrance of his rank and position in his kingdom.

A large and long tail and a pointy mout... it was a rat, but it was grotesquely big. His yellow eyes scrutinized you, while his nose was sniffing the air in your direction.

Without thinking twice, you bolted so fast to escape from that thing, but you didn't get enough time since he was fast enough to grab you from your ankle and raise you up like an old ragged doll. You tried to kick it, scratch it, and try to punch it, but he didn't budge a little; it was like a mosquito bite for him.

"LET ME GO! STOP!"

Despite your plea, he just stood there, looking at you and sniffing more closely. A few of your hair sucked in his nostrils, and so I kept it up for a few more seconds. You couldn't see it, but it seemed... curious. He decided to change your position, holding you by your waist, trying to see you better from another angle.

You were beyond terrorized; from near, he was even worse! AND THAT SMELL! You shivered in his grasp, too afraid to move another punch or kick while he studied you. He finally stopped moving when your face hit a direct ray of sunlight from the hole in the ceiling. You gasped, tried to cover yourself, and then...the ground.

He didn't tossed you at all; he just putted you down. It was incredible to notice that you didn't even feel any pain in your abdomen from where he had grasped you. At that point, he just started to emit something that reminded you of some kind of giggle, a few snorts, and he looked...excited? He trotted to one of the small trinkets stacked near the bed that you assumed was his own. starting to move things around.

He was distracted. That was your chance! You slowly start to pick it up from where you left it to get out from there, when you felt again his enormous hand on your back, grasping the back of your shirt from behind, rising you up again like a kitten.

"Stop it! I don't-"

And then, again, you were seated...in front of what once was maybe a nice tea set. His throat was emitting a strange sound while he started a small fire and put a big iron pot of water on it. He was...humming...while making tea? And there were two pairs of small cups, old and dusty, and one was for you?

You didn't muttered a word, preferring to stare at that strange creature that was now putting some dried herbs; you wondered if it was even tea in the pot, still very small for something of his size.

"Wha...what are...you doing?"

"Making tea...for the guest!"

Okay, now it was a really good moment to freak out; he thought you were a guest?! HIS GUEST?!

"I thought you were supposed to..."

You held your tongue, reminding him about the fact that you were lunch for him; it may be quite a problem. You tried another time to move away, but suddlenly got back in place when some kind of conckut was versed in your cup. A few big drops spilled; he wasn't so versatile in this.

And then he looked at you. No, staring. He was there, staring at you, waiting for a response, and you looked at the staff in your cup. Imagine the food infection that it would cause. You kept on staring at it, trying to come up with every possible excuse to avoid the ingestion of the brooth, but three meters Yaogauis don't leave room for so many options. You gulped the content of the cup, trying to hold the near vomit coniate.

",..Gee...thanks...that was...so nice! .....Thanks..."

Oh was... please, like a lot. He started to clap, happy, drinking directly from the pot.

After that, he started again to act strangely. But this time it wasn't about taking care of the guest, but just...pile up staff...on you.

He made sure that you were comfortable, as much as you were, but his actions reminded you of a child that is showing you staff. At some point he even tried to put a necklace around your neck, but your sudden shriek made him desist, only for him to put the garmet in your hand. It was an old and broken jade pearl necklace; maybe there was a pendant in the middle since the space, but it was long gone. The small gems were broken or ruined, but it seemed to be once a really nice piece of jewelry.

At some point, your fear just became boredom and hassle, especially when he kept on showing you staff. At some point, what really caught your eye was a rectangular piece of wood that had previously fallen from one of the piles next to you. Covered in dust and mud, it must have seen better time, but, on the front, something was still visible: it was a piece of paper plastered with something on the wood, and, on it, three figures standing, one sitting in the center of it. The three standing figures seemed young, each of them with something to distinguish them from each other, the one sitting on a small chair wearing instead some regal robes.

"Ah, a painting...why did you keep it with you? Do you like drawing?"

The rat suddenly stopped, pointing his finger towards you and the draw.

"Me! Me and brothers! And my papa too! You found it, so good."

He seemed delighted, clapping his hands and making again those strange sounds. You, instead, cannot stop looking at the drawing confused. Him? Wait...one of them had a Chui next to him, and some traits, by using a lot of imagination, made him similar to your gaoler.

"Wait...this is you? You are him?!"

You pointed the figure, and he just...nodded, vigurusly.

"But," you continued, "how?! How it happened?! You were a man! How did you become a... Yaoguai?"

You said, avoiding using the word rat, opting to not make remarks on his looks further.

"Master!" He just chirped "Master! He did it! Everyone rats now! Little brother left, searching for help for turning in rats...still missing...older brother...not so good...he acts violent...daddy like master! So I follow too! ....But not like, like, daddy."

"Master?...what master?"

"Sage! Wind sage!"

"Hold on, the...the yellow wind sage did this to you?" He kept on nodding; this time it was slower than before; maybe it was something that he wasn't proud of?

"Did it hurt you? I mean,. you didn't have a tail before. It was painful. I'm...sorry..." Your tone was softer this time, wondering how much pain that poor creature must have endured all this time. He seemed to be remembering his old life as a man; maybe, by having you in, he tried to recreate some old habits of him? Did you remind him of someone that he had lost? He didn't even try to eat you at all; he was just being nice.

He kept on looking at you, sensing the change in the room after this knowledge, and he just...poke you. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Was he trying to cheer you up?

"Even rat, help Daddy! Master will be back, Daddy happy, and finally Daddy will notice my work! Me protect people from tigers! Not many thanks, but still do!"

And now you felt worse! How could someone say so casually that their father doesn't give them enough credits?! He was just a big guy. Yaogaus truly were strange, from some friendly horses to a rat prince.

"I'm sorry to know that you have to endure all of this... But, you know, me and my friend, we're searching for AH!"

Trying to understand this creature, trying to get a chance to flee, and trying to not faint for fear made you forget the first reason why you were there in the first place. You rose from your spot, causing him to back away in surprise.

"The relic! The wind sage...MONKEY!"

You put down the cup; how could you stay here taking tea while your friend was somewhere pierced by who knows how many arrows?! You started to move away from there, trying not to fall from the various junk that he had put around you.

"I'm sorry! I need to leave! My friend needs me; I need to help him! I AGH!"

When he grabbed you, this time he was more scared and aprehensive, trying to stop you from your exit.

"No! You must stay! Other kill and eat, I protect and care! You too, nice! You stay!"

The fight that you left before restarted again, this time with much more vigor from you. You won't have let your friend die in that dump place!

"Put me down! I don't want to stay here with you! LET ME GO!"

His attempt to keep you in place resulted in both his giant hands holding you and trying to keep your kicking feet away from his face. He was starting to panic. Why did you have to leave?!

The struggle continued, and both of you did not notice a figure approaching fastly in your direction until you just heard a huge STOMP. The rat started to move around like a drunk man, then collapsed in a huge cloud of dust and sand. This time, you didn't have to taste the ground since two strong arms were ready to capture your fall.

"You look like you were in need of assistance, my Bián huá!"

"...Monkey!"

His furry face welcomed you once you opened your eyes from the fall with a smile and, instinctively, you launched your arms around his neck for an hug. But you remembered his wounds at the last moment.

"AH! I'm sorry! Your wounds!"

"I'm fine! See? Not a scratch!"

He showed you his chest, untouched and without trace of any wounds or arrows.

"But I saw it... Did the healing wine help you?"

"Not exactely. I've found a helping hand that...

Will let you lose your head!"

"...it's strangely specific."

He just laughed it off but regained his seriousness once he heard some moan of pain from the rat Yaogaui in front of him. He let you down, then took back his staff.

"Wait!" He looked at you surprised. "Let's just leave him. You gave him a concussion already. I don't think he'll be a problem soon."

"All right, I don't know what happened here, but you look like you had a blast. Let's move now; more rats will come after the commotion!"

You nodded, but you still looked back at the prince with the same sorry expression from before.

"I'm sorry. It's an urgent matter. I promise to apologize better when we'll take the relic. Thank you!"

And so you and the Destined One left hand in hand the cave, noticing in a rush moment the look of pain in the prince's eyes. You wondered if the pain was for his head or something else.

@sleepingdramaqueen

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@sleepydang

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starogeorgina · 2 months

Text

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Swearing

1.03

“Jace—”

With tears in his eyes, Jacaerys quickly turns and runs in the opposite direction. What if he went straight to his mother and told her what Aegon said? Even worse, what if he told Lucerys? You go to chase after your nephew, but Aegon grabs your wrist. “Just leave it be.”

“He just heard you call his mother a whore and him a bastard. I cannot simply leave it.”

Aegon lets go of you and shrugs, “Who cares? He is a bastard.”

“His parentage is not the point; Jace is just a child.”

“I thought you were angry at our sisters.” Frustrated by your silence, Aegon tosses the empty goblet in his hand at the ground and clenches his teeth. “You can’t possibly feel bad for them?”

“Our nephews didn’t betray me; only Rhaenyra did. Those boys don’t deserve what is being said about them.” Shaking your head, you watch as Aegon puffs out his cheeks in a childlike manner. “Besides, father will be furious if she hears what you said.”

“Course he will,” he scoffs.

“Are you going to come with me to find him?”

When Aegon doesn’t answer, you start to walk away, but when he realizes you’re serious, he chases you back down the rocky path you’d walked up side by side moments before. “Your mind is like a labyrinth.”

“What?”

Sharply he says, “You’re truly a fool, sister, if you think they will ever care for you.”

“I’m already aware Rhaenyra doesn’t, but Jace and Luke—”

“Don’t either. They will grow up to be just like her.”

Your lips begin to tremble.

“Don’t look at me like that; I’m just telling you the truth. Our sister and her bastards will always come first to the realm, to our father, to each other. We have no place with them.”

A lump forms in the back of your throat; you weren’t sure if Aegon was saying this to deliberately hurt you or if his drunken thoughts had started to overspill. “Go sober up, brother, before the queen finds you.”

—

On the rocky outcrops overlooking where Lady Laena was laid to rest, you find Jacaerys sitting on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, his eyes swollen and cheeks flushed from crying. He was watching Ser Laenor standing in the waves, mourning his sister.

You sit down beside him. “What you overheard—”

“I asked my mother if I was a bastard, and she told me I was a Targaryen.”

“She is right.” You reach for his hand. “Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor Velaryon love you, Luke, and Joff very much. And that is all that matters.”

“Do you still love us?”

“Of course, I’ll always love you and your brothers. No matter what.”

—

Retiring for the night you’re left with a sour taste in your mouth. You had tried to persuade Aegon to join at supper before bed, but he insisted on spending his night drowning himself in his cups and ogling any lady he could.

Flora was behind you as you walked to the bedchamber you were staying in for the night. Just as you’re about to turn the corner, yeah, Ser Harrold and Ser Criston’s were attempting to keep quiet, but whatever irritations they had were causing their voices to become louder.

“Are you familiar with the fate of Ser Chester Mooton?”

You peek around the corner just as Ser Criston straightens up his shoulders; he looks irritated. “No, I haven't, Lord Commander.”

“He was a knight of House Mooton, a member of King Jaehaerys Kingsguard, and the sworn protector of his daughter Princess Saera Targaryen. The two were always seen by each other's sides, even during the late hours of the night. They were as thick as thieves—overly familiar. King Jaehaerys had Chester gelded and sent to the Wall. His grace, King Viserys, would do the same.”

“What are you—”

Flora, who was listening in as intently as you, slips as she leans against the wall, making a slapping sound. The two of you share a panicked look; she clears her throat. “Is there anything else you wish to do, princess, before retiring for the evening?”

Just as the question leaves her mouth, the two nights turn the corner. The older knight looks his normal self as he greets you and your lady, while Ser Criston looks slightly flustered.

“Ser Harrold, Ser Criston.”

“Princess, it’s a little late to be exploring the castle, especially without a shield,” Ser Harrold says. “Ser Criston will escort the two of you back safely.”

The walk to the bedchamber is in complete silence. You and Flora lock eyes every so often but quickly look away, afraid the knight would catch on. Different questions were reeling in your mind: had Ser Criston broken his vows? Since being in the kingsguard, the knight had only been a shield for two people. Her grace, the queen, and your elder sister, princess Rhaenyra.

Which one did he break his vows with?

—

“Will that be all, princess?”

“Yes, goodnight, Flora. I’ll see you in the morrow.”

Your lady-in-waiting nods her head, then takes leave. Although Driftmark Castle was a small, grim, and forbidding building, you found comfort in its dampness, peculiar since the blood of the dragon runs thick through your veins.

You dangle your legs over the edge of the bed while trying to settle your mind, which had been racing since your conversation with Jacaerys earlier. You knew what it was like growing up with whispers being spread about you. It was never a secret at court; your father desperately wanted a son, and his wife died giving birth to twins; he was only left with the daughter he didn’t want. And now Rhaenyra’s son’s would spend the rest of their lives being called bastards.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel the softness of the ghostly white nightgown beneath your fingers. The shade matches your dragon; ghosts pale, almost ethereal shade of white scales.

Sighing, your bare feet touch the cold stone floor as you make your way to the table in the center of the room. You sit and begin to light the candles Flora placed on the wooden surface. Quietly you speak to yourself, “Aemma Arryn, Baelon Targaryen, Laena Velaryon.” A single tear rolls down your cheek as you light the last candle, “Harwin Strong.”

You stare at the flames, watching as they move with the wind blowing through the open window.

The door to the room suddenly opens, and a member of your father's kingsguard enters. “Princess, forgive the intrusion, but there has been an incident, and the queen has requested your presence as a matter of urgency.”

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x you #Aegon ii Targaryen/reader #aegon targaryen/reader #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #ghosts in the sky #aegon targaryen

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bi-bard · 1 month

Text

On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’ - Scott Imagine [Twisters]

Title: On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’

Pairing: Scott [Twisters] X Reader

Word Count: 3,126 words

Warning(s): argument, grabbing someone's wrist

Summary: [Somewhat inspired by "Too Easy" by Tanner Adell] When a new company rolls into town during tornado season, Tyler's team is curious. Perfect uniforms, all looking ready for picture wasn't exactly the normal look for tornado chasing. (Y/n) volunteers to be the one to gather some much-needed intel, doing whatever they need to in order to get it.

Author's Note: I have about five Twisters imagines in my drafts right now.

Listen. I'm have something cute about this guy in my drafts, but he pissed me off in this movie, so I have to get that shit out first. It's part of my process.

----------------------

There was always a lot of energy during tornado season, but nothing beat the feelings on those first few days.

There was all this hope. This adrenaline going for something that hadn't even happened yet. A little while in, you would get an idea about how the season was going to go. The not-knowing before that was the best part. Endless possibilities and all that.

All that to explain that it felt normal for our team to be jumping off the walls like kids in a candy shop when we first all made it to Oklahoma.

Boone and Tyler were sorting out the truck. Dexter and Dani were making sure the trailer was stocked with merch and food for those who needed it. I hadn't been given a task, so I was left to pretty much my own devices. As a result, Lily was left working on her drone while I talked her ear off. She didn't seem to mind it.

I looked up over her head to see a group of white trucks and vans pulling up. Nice ones. Clean, new. I saw the logo slapped on the side.

"What in the hell is Storm Par," I asked.

"What?" Lily looked at me before immediately turning to the other vehicles. "No idea."

"Hey, Tyler!" I walked over to the truck.

"What's going on? Sugar high crashing?"

"Very funny," I replied before pointing to the white vehicles. "Who's Storm Par?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "No idea. Look like a big corporation."

A group of men started climbing out of the vehicles.

"Woah," he muttered.

"Proper science fair dudes," I commented. "Bet you twenty bucks that they have pocket protectors."

Tyler reached out and whacked my shoulder. "Be nice."

"Fine," I grumbled as he turned back to the truck.

I caught one of the men staring at me. He was tall and seemed to have a completely emotionless face. His clothes were neat, perfectly pressed. When he saw that I had noticed him, he had turned away from me, going to follow his team into the gas station.

"Want me to get intel?"

Tyler chuckled. "Intel? What year do you think it is? We can look them up tonight."

"Yeah, but I just caught one of their boys staring at me," I explained. "Let me do it; it'll kill two birds with one stone."

I heard Boone laugh from the other side of the truck. "I love the way you think!"

"Thanks, Boone."

"Alright, fine," Tyler relented. "But hurry up, we gotta get going."

"Thank you," I said. "Anyone want a drink?"

"Get me a Mountain Dew!" Boone called. I pointed at him and nodded.

"Be back in a minute!"

I walked back to the fridges along the back wall. I saw the man who had stared at me was now standing by the fridges.

I stood next to him. "Hey there."

He didn't respond, just staring straight ahead at the fridge. I had to hold in my laugh as I stepped forward to grab two Mountain Dews.

"Did Storm Par put a ban on talking to other tornado chasers," I asked. He didn't reply again. "Or are you just scared? Promise I don't bite."

"I'm not scared," he replied.

"Oh my goodness, he speaks." I placed a hand over my chest to pretend to be shocked. I chuckled at his clearly unimpressed expression before holding my hand out. "(Y/n)."

"Scott." he shook my hand before very quickly pulling it back.

"Nice to meet you, Scott," I said. "So, what exactly is Storm Par?"

"We track tornados so the data can be used for research."

"Real specific there," I chuckled at him. "What kind of research?"

He didn't respond.

"Oh, come on, I'm not gonna steal your ideas."

"I'm not worried about it."

"Are you worried that I won't understand it? I'm smarter than I look."

He let out an amused huff before grabbing a water and starting to walk to the checkout. I followed him.

"Maybe you could explain it to me later then," I suggested, hopping in front of him just before he got in line. I smiled at his blank look. "Tonight. There's a bar not too far from here, right next to a hotel that our crew's staying at; I'll buy you a drink."

I watched as his eyes scanned me for a moment. It looked like he was trying to figure out whether or not I was tricking him. I was almost hurt. I mean, I was tricking him, but not in the way that he was assuming.

I turned around to pay for my drinks, so I could step out of the way.

"Come on," I pushed before rattling off the name of the bar. "Meet me there tonight. One drink. If I'm that bad of company, then you can leave and I won't complain once. I'll even try to stay out of your hair during the chases."

Scott took a deep breath. "Fine."

"Yes," I cheered out of mostly fake excitement. "You won't regret this."

"I hope not."

I reached out and fiddled with a button on his white shirt. Far too perfect to be out there chasing storms. "Can't wait to see how well your perfect uniforms last out there."

I stepped back, not missing how his eyes followed my hand.

"See you later, Fancy Pants!" I waved as I started running back out to Tyler's truck.

"How'd it go," Tyler asked as I hopped into the passenger seat.

"Didn't get much," I admitted, handing Boone his drink before buckling up. "But I did get him to say yes to meeting me for a drink later."

"Atta kid!" Boone clapped his hand over my shoulder.

"I know, I know, a miracle worker," I replied. "Ready to get out there?"

"Absolutely," Tyler said.

The rest of the day went so much faster than it had any right to.

We saw Storm Par a lot. It took everything in me to not be a bit of a dick when we passed them. I did wave once when I spotted Scott in the passenger seat of one of the trucks. He nodded at me in an awkward greeting, which led to him getting a bit of a weird look from the man who was driving.

"What are you doing?" Tyler laughed as I relaxed back into my seat.

"Playing with the food," Boone answered before I could, causing me to laugh loudly.

"I was gonna say 'being friendly', but that's better," I said.

Maybe that was the excitement of it all messing with my head, but it felt like it took a matter of minutes before we found ourselves driving to the bar that I had told Scott to meet me at.

I walked in ahead of the group, trying to keep from laughing at the comments that Boone was shouting over my shoulder.

I saw some of the other guys from Storm Par at a table together. At the actual bar was Scott. He looked a bit tense, almost disheartened. I started to wonder just how long he had been there. Had I kept him waiting? Did he think that I stood him up? Was that the face of stubbornness just before calling the night a bust and going back to wherever he was staying?

I guess it didn't matter now. I couldn't back out.

"Fancy pants!" I called before walking over quickly. He seemed startled as I plopped onto the barstool next to him. "How was your day?"

"You should know, you were there for most of it," he replied.

"Was that a joke or are you just annoyed with me," I asked.

"Guess you'll have to figure it out." he shrugged. I saw a small grin form as he took a sip of his drink.

I let out a scoff. "Wow, Fancy Pants is bold now. A couple of sips is all it took?"

Scott rolled his eyes. The bartender walked over to us. I just asked for the same of whatever Scott had been drinking before focusing back on the conversation.

"The uniform held up well, I see." I pulled lightly at one of the white sleeves of his shirt. "Research must not be as hands-on as I thought it was."

"We do the same thing your crew does," he argued.

"With a bigger paycheck, I'm sure," I replied.

"Our work is a bit more important."

"And what work is that?"

"Why don't you tell me about yours first?" he smirked at me before taking another sip of his drink.

He thought it was clever. I could tell. Avoid my question by focusing the attention back on me. In any other situation, it would have screwed me out of the information that I needed.

But in this one... it was a mistake.

Here's the thing: I could talk. I could go on and on for hours about absolute nonsense. I could go from story to story without taking a breath.

And I did.

I told him about all the work that we had done to help people. About digging through the destroyed debris to try and find some pieces of people's lives. About making bundles of food. Then, I just started telling stories about every funny or weird moment that had happened since I had joined Tyler's crew.

The time that I burned served me well. Scott relaxed. Whether that was a result of his drink or simply because I was earning his trust was a mystery to me. I didn't bother focusing on which it was.

"Alright, alright," I said. "That's enough about what I do. Tell me about Storm Par."

"I told you; we collect data for future tornado research," Scott replied.

"Oh, come on." I rolled my eyes. "I mean, not to be rude, but I've seen your team. You're all a bit young to be jumping into research all on your own. And Storm Par doesn't sound like a company attached to a college."

"No, no, we're a private company," he explained. "We've had some luck finding a few really interested investors."

"Like...?"

"The biggest one is Marshall Riggs. He's a big-name real estate guy."

I couldn't quite put the pieces together at the time, but I felt a pit in my stomach. Unease that formed all too fast. "What would a real estate guy want with tornado research?"

"He's helping people," Scott's response felt like an attempt to twist an image that hadn't even been made yet. "He uses it to find people that have lost their homes and businesses and such and he buys them. It allows those people to move forward with their lives without having to wait for insurance to make a call on it."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Doesn't a disaster usually force the prices down for land?"

"I mean, it's lower than the normal price. It's not like he's buying this land up for five dollars and a pack of gum."

"What other aid does Storm Par offer them then, if they're getting rid of their homes and land?"

"Our investors focus funds on the research."

"So no?"

"So we're focused on the bigger picture. More long-term consequences."

I took the subtlest deep breath that I could. "I see."

I looked down at my watch.

"Oh, look at that, it's a lot later than I thought," I said, completely lying through my teeth. "We have to head out early in the morning."

I handed my card to the bartender, muttering for him to just cover both of our drinks.

"I can walk you out," Scott replied.

"Yeah, sure, okay," I mumbled, scribbling down a tip and putting my card away.

I followed Scott outside, letting him hold the door open. I wanted to seem less tense than I was. I was doubting how well it was working, but all I needed was for it to be good enough to get out of there without being questioned, so who really cares?

We made it outside. I was about to insist that we go our separate ways for the night, but he cut me off.

"You were right," Scott said. "Didn't regret that."

"Oh, good," I replied. I may have regretted it.

There was a long pause. Scott went to step closer to me. I almost scrambled back before he could, forcing out a chuckle.

"Well, I should go." I shrugged, continuing to walk backward before eventually turning around and just calling to him over my shoulder. "Have a good night. Stay safe. See you around, fancy pants!"

A few minutes later, I was knocking on Tyler's door like I was a landlord looking for late rent.

"(Y/n), what the hell are you doing," he asked as he yanked the door open. "You're gonna piss off somebody."

"I'm already a bit pissed, so maybe it'll do some good to share the suffering," I replied before shoving my way past him. "I have answers."

"About Storm Par?"

"No about what Scott likes to do on a nice summer day- Yes about Storm Par!"

"You are grumpy when it's late." he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Shut up," I slapped his shoulder. "I found out about Storm Par's funding."

"Okay..."

"So, yes, they do research and track the storms and report that data back to their investors," I explained. "The problem is that their major investor is named Marshall Riggs, who has apparently made quite a name for himself in real estate."

"What would he want with it?"

"Well, he's going to the places impacted by the storms and buying up land from people who lose their homes and businesses and stuff. He's apparently spinning some story that he's allowing people to move forward with their lives, but come on, he's just using this information to get his hands on cheap land."

"Do you know what he's doing with the land?"

"I didn't ask."

"Okay..."

"Storm Par is giving this man power to do some real harm here."

"I know, I know."

"So, what are we gonna do," I asked, looking at Tyler again.

"I... I don't know," he replied, running his hand over his face.

"We can't just let him keep doing this!"

"(Y/n)," he sighed. "I don't even know if this guy is doing something that's technically illegal-"

"It's still wrong!" I snapped at him.

"I know!"

I froze.

"But whatever we do won't stop him. He'll keep preying on desperate people and whatever we say won't change what impact he might have on them. They're desperate, they think they're alone."

"So we just do nothing?"

"No." Tyler shook his head. "What we can do is continue helping people."

I nodded. "I just... I feel like there's just so much more that we could do."

"In a perfect world, we would be able to speak out and it would stop him." he shrugged. "It would make him give up and walk off with his tail between his legs. But we can't. We just have to do what we can."

I took a deep breath. Tyler pulled me into a hug.

"We're doing good work. And we'll only earn more outreach. We'll continue to do better."

I stepped back. "I'm still going to be an asshole tomorrow."

"Just don't end up dead or in jail."

"I'll do my best," I shrugged before going to walk out. "Good night!"

"Night!" he called out after me.

I was hoping that the next morning would have been mostly calm. That we would get out into the field before Storm Par or vice versa. Something to keep me from having to face Scott for just a few more hours.

I was walking back to the truck after picking up some breakfast. I was occupied with my own thoughts. I was still upset. I was still fighting the urge to go scream from the rooftops about Marshall Riggs and the bullshit he was doing.

"(Y/n)!"

I considered sprinting to the truck when I heard Scott say my name. I just wasn't feeling mean enough to do that... yet.

"Scott," I said as I turned around. "How are ya?"

"Good, good, what about you?"

"I'm fine, just busy," I replied, going to step away. "Heading out early and all."

Scott stepped forward. "I was hoping to ask if you wanted to meet again tonight. Maybe dinner instead of a drink."

"I... I don't think that'd be a good idea."

His face fell. "Oh... why?"

"I just don't think we clicked like I thought we would." the goal was to maintain the peace until the end of the season. "But hey, we tried it, that's what matters. I'll... I'll see you out there."

"Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope, you were just fine. Just didn't work."

I turned to walk away but was stopped when Scott grabbed my wrist. "I don't believe that."

I yanked my arm from him. "Don't ever fucking grab me again."

"I just want the truth."

"I told you the truth." I turned away again.

I was grabbed again. "Just wait-"

I pulled my arm away and shoved him backward. "I fucking warned you to not grab me like that again."

He seemed to still be reeling from the fact that I shoved him.

"You want the truth? Fine," I shrugged. "I find your company and what it stands for to be completely despicable. I think it's disgusting that y'all would accept money to help a man take advantage of innocent people. I think it's disgusting that you don't seem to give a damn about it. If I could tear your company down, I would, but in reality, my words would never stop you or your damn investors. And I hope that one day you wake up, look in the mirror, and feel the crushing pain of all those that you helped that man manipulate."

Scott stepped forward, a response clearly ready, but he looked over my shoulder and froze.

"(Y/n), you good?" I heard Tyler's voice call over to me.

"Yeah," I yelled over my shoulder. "Just having a quick chat!"

I stepped away again, walking as quickly as I could to make it over to him and the rest of the crew.

"Didn't end up in jail," I offered, trying to look at the bright side.

"I almost did," he muttered. "Get in the truck."

I did a little salute to him before going around to the passenger seat. I saw Tyler stare down Scott for a few more seconds before hopping in the driver's seat.

Maybe there was some argument to be made about the benefits of killing someone with kindness. But that just wasn't how I operated. And I think I'm better off that way.

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claymoresword · 2 months

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The Queen And Her Knight | Chp: 8

Alicent Hightower x Knight Fem!Reader

Summary: Alicent Hightower against her better judgement, falls in love with her sworn protector. Can she bear to fight her feelings or will she finally just give in?

Pairing: Alicent x Reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Disclaimer: angst, masc/butch coded reader, alicent is a mess, aemond & y/n, otto is a scheming little prick

Note: honestly idk if it's writers block or just a general lack of motivation but i could not for the life of me convince myself to sit down and write this story lol i'm very sorry for the delay

this chapter doesn't move around too much as it focuses on the events directly after Storm's End. sorry if it's boring... but I really hope it isn't! ok that's it, love y'all

Taglist: @blackbirdv98 @flaiire1805 @alicentfangirl @memarrymilf @thegayassbit-ch @vantestark @hauntedfictionland @livinginafantasysposts @baddie-on-a-mission-xx @evolutionsglory @darthtargnister @dxrewclf @rozmrazaradelfinow @wlwfanfictionss @karsonromanoff

You are jolted out of your slumber with the feeling of Criston's rough hand on your shoulder. "Council meeting, Lord Commander. you have been summoned."

In your half asleep state, you open your eyes just enough to squint at him, a grimace covers your features.

"What? Why can't you take the watch, Cole?" You question, rubbing your face in frustration as you sit up in bed.

You feel a breeze through the open window, it is still noticeably dark out. Nowhere near first light; your expression twists further in confusion. "What hour is it?"

Criston doesn't respond to your inquiry, his jaw is set in a way that always makes him appear mad at the world. "The dowager queen has sent for you, specifically."

At the mention of Alicent, you quickly tug the blanket off your frame, rising from your bed. "Very well, Ser. I will be out in a moment, just let me dress."

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You observed as Otto Hightower paced the length of the small council chambers, his hands firmly clasped behind his back. His stare is pensive, but he is anxious– despite his meager attempt to conceal it.

Alicent wears a similar look on her face, although instead of pacing she repeatedly brings her fingers up to her lips, gnawing at the skin around her nails.

The sight makes you grimace. Every time you allow yourself to believe she has abandoned the horrid habit, it resurfaces ten fold.

Alicent would manage to chew her fingers until raw and bloody unless you put a stop to it.

Infuriatingly, now you can only afford to rest both hands on the hilt of your sword. You cannot reach out; too many eyes.

The last thing you want is to be seen touching the dowager queen without her leave.

"Your Grace." You chide instead, your voice only loud enough for Alicent to hear.

The dowager queen looks your way, her gaze distant before her eyes finally settle upon your own.

Your narrowed gaze was enough for her to remove her hand from her mouth, clasping both of them over her belly instead, stifling the impulse.

Something has happened. But what, exactly?

You want to ask, but the words soon die in your throat as the doors to the chambers open.

Prince Aemond enters, dressed in his riding attire. His hand propped on the pommel of his longsword, his head held high.

You manage to catch the way Alicent stiffens at the sight of him.

Something is wrong, very wrong.

"Prince Aemond, I am certain we are all eager to find out what matter is so pressing that it requires our immediate audience at this time of night." Ser Tyland is first to address the obvious issue that's been left unspoken.

The Lannister's annoyance represents that of the other men in the room. It is thinly veiled if not entirely unconcealed.

Though to his luck, it somehow evades Aemond entirely. The prince decides to speak plainly.

"Lucerys Velaryon is dead."

The room falls silent, safe from the crackling of firewood in the hearth nearby– the air so still you can hear the beating of your heart in your ears.

"How–" Ser Tyland tries but Aemond interjects.

"He died on dragonback. Vhagar and I happened upon him in the Stormlands." The Targaryen explains and your eyes widen.

You glance at Alicent on instinct, the dowager queen appears ready to faint, or wretch– you could not say. You remain standing beside her just in case.

Once again there is only silence, even from the Hand of the king himself. Otto Hightower's expression betrays nothing, and it confounds you.

There is certainly no hope for peace now, not when Aemond has just openly declared a war by killing the princess’ own son.

"I do not.. understand–" The words tumble out before you even fully realize you were speaking.

Aemond turns to you then, his expression betrays even less than his grandsire.

"His dragon provoked mine, there was not much I could do.” Aemond delivers the statement with such certainty and indifference, it sends a chill down your spine, destabilizing enough that you have to look elsewhere.

“My Prince, forgive me– As I understand it dragons do not attack others of their kind unless they feel threatened, much less one six times it's own size.” Maester Orwyle verbalizes your own thoughts exactly.

Aemond provoked the boy first.

“It does not matter. The bastard got what was coming to him.” Aemond snaps in return, you observe as Alicent rubs her own forearm, an effort to soothe herself. You notice, whilst the men around her remain oblivious.

The room is flooded with a sudden sense of trepidation and despair.

“The princess will want blood for this.” Orwyle states grimly.

“That she will. and when she comes for it we will be ready.” Otto finally speaks, he steps forward, bracing his hands firmly on the wood-carved table.

“We can no longer expect the princess or her lord husband to bend their knees willingly. They will attempt to take my grandson’s rightful seat by force. We must strengthen our defenses.” He bellows, glancing at every man in the room.

Eventually Otto looks to you, but pays his own daughter no mind.

“I have the largest dragon.” Aemond remarks proudly, like the green boy that he is.

Having a dragon does not make you invincible, lad. You would have warned him, if you had been alone. Afterall, he did listen to you.. most times.

You let out a quiet sigh. The young prince knows nothing of warfare, so naturally he is giddy at the prospect.

His grandsire remains the only one with authority to openly address his statement, and his next words to Aemond are a risk. “Yes, and they are not to forget that.”

“We must first secure the castle, no one unauthorized goes in or out without my leave.”

“Lord Commander, double the amount of guards in the royal quarters. The king and queen's chambers especially.” Otto orders, his gaze now fixed on you.

With what men? You find yourself wondering.

More than half the kingsguard has since fled to join Rhaenyra's cause while your own men grow restless and uncooperative the longer your father took to declare his support for Aegon.

You don't dare utter your grievances out loud, simply nodding at the command.

“Very well, M'lord.”

Otto turns away from you to continue discussing future strategies with the rest of the council members.

It all comes easily to him, as though he had been planning them for some time. As if this was all a part of a larger scheme.

You foolishly mistook Otto's excitement for anxiety. This realization feels so macabre, you could laugh.

The men of the council continue to listen whether they want to or not, whilst you remain standing by the dowager queen. Alicent grows more uneasy by the minute as she listens to her father openly laying out strategies and tactics.

It is all happening so quickly.

Alicent fiddles with her seven pointed star necklace again before rubbing her neck anxiously. She goes to gnaw at her finger but stops herself.

The queen is unraveling right before your eyes, and the sight makes you ache.

Like a pot of steaming water just about to boil over; your lover's next move is sudden.

Alicent takes large strides towards the exit, the men of the council rise from their seats abruptly to see her off, and you fall in next to her dutifully.

“Mother–” Aemond calls out to her, but Alicent does not look back.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Alicent doesn't allow herself to pause until she reaches her bedchambers, Ser Criston inclines his head at the sight of the queen, stepping aside to let her through.

“Return to your quarters, Cole, I will guard Her Grace.” You command, and Ser Criston nods without much reproach.

Most likely eager for the opportunity to return to his bedchambers and resume his slumber.

You replace his spot by the door as he went on his way, soon the knight turns a corner and out of sight. The clanging of his armor grew faint, eventually dimming into nothing.

“Y/n.” Your name echoes through the walkway.

It is Alicent calling for you before the door to her chambers gets the chance to shut fully. Her sweet voice, frail and weary with tears unshed.

You swiftly step inside at the invitation, habitually bolting the door behind you. As you turn, the dowager queen practically throws herself into your arms. It doesn't take you long to return her embrace, your chest constricts as you hear her sob against your shoulder.

“Oh, my love–” You coax, caressing her hair with a much needed tenderness, but you don't get to do it for long as Alicent soon breaks away from you to speak.

“Aemond, he came to me first– woke me to admit what he'd done.” She starts, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, only for more tears to fall.

“But it seemed as though he expected me to celebrate him for it. He looked so proud of himself.” Alicent recounts, her hand now shifts over her belly, as though actively suppressing the urge to be sick.

You watched as she began to pace the floors.

“The indignities of his childhood.. his want for revenge, it has blinded him–”

“It has blackened his heart, twisted him into someone I don't even recognize.” Alicent declares bitterly.

She gnaws at her cuticle again before turning to look at you. Your silence only makes her grow expectant, as though hoping you'll dispute her words. Perhaps even agree with them, but you find yourself incapable of doing either.

Aemond no longer appears the same boy you grew to care for. The boy you have trained and looked out for since he was not much taller than your knee.

A solemn fact, but one that is true.

Even so, you can hardly believe the young prince is capable of cold blooded murder– surely, it must have been an accident, a terrible lapse in judgment.

Dragons have never been so easily tamed, least of all the large and ancient beast Aemond commands.

Vhagar must have acted on her own.

Yes, in the presence of the council Aemond has to pretend. He pretends so his dignity is spared.

Alicent mistakes your silence for agreement, frustration and helplessness quickly overwhelm her.

“What is to become of my sons, y/n? The rotten fruits of my womb.. They are both monsters.” Alicent sobs, placing the blame entirely on herself– a thing she does often and mercilessly.

Another unjust habit.

You feel inclined to disagree. It is not fair that Alicent bears the burden all on her own, it does no good to anyone for her to believe these things.

You realize that your kindness will most likely not be of much use to her now– but you vow to try anyway. “Most men are, Your Grace.. You mustn't– you cannot blame yourself.”

You allow yourself a deep breath as Alicent meets your gaze; she is listening.

“We are a product of our parents, our mothers, that much is true. Still, we are our own person, we make our choices and we live with them.” You approach Alicent steadily, as though not to startle her.

“Aemond made a choice, my love.” You affirm, cupping her face with both hands, silently relishing at the feeling of her seeking out your embrace once more.

Alicent remains silent for a prolonged moment, she welcomes the feeling of your hand smoothing down her back.

“He should have never gone to Storm's End without an escort. Death and destruction awaits anyone who dares mount those feral beasts.” Alicent maintains her revulsion for dragons, now more than ever, vitriol laces her every word.

“This could have all been avoided.” She decides, forlorn.

“Now that poor boy is dead– and Rhaenyra, she– I gave her my word, peace in the realm if she accepted my terms, and I have betrayed that.” Alicent hugs you tighter, and you lift her head off your shoulder calmly as to guide her face towards your own.

“Alicent, what has happened cannot be undone. I dread the consequences as much as you do, but no good can come from blaming yourself.” You render, still you decide to continue even as the older woman averts her gaze.

“There was no way to anticipate this. I am certain prince Aemond himself did not plan on meeting Lucerys with his dragon.”

“Sometimes things simply happen. For better or worse.” You finish, in truth, unsatisfied with yourself.

Words are wind, there is only so much you can say in a situation as dire as this, in the face of impending war.

“It is not your fault. Do you hear me?” You insist, the pad of your thumb caressing Alicent's cheek as you catch a glimpse of her warm brown eyes.

At last, she hears your words and she accepts them. Alicent nods.

“Not my fault.” The dowager queen finally utters in return, uncharacteristically withdrawn and almost docile in your arms.

You continue to handle her carefully, as though she were made of glass. “That's right.” Relieved, you place a lingering kiss upon Alicent's forehead.

A welcomed stillness fills the air as you hold each other, in the quiet of the night, but as with most good things as of late– it is short lived.

A knock on the door startles you both, a familiar voice can be heard from the other side.

“Mother?” Aemond says as he attempts to enter, but the bolt you had placed on the handle prevents the door from budging.

Alicent escapes your touch, she threads her fingers through her auburn locks in visible distress. She makes the effort to step even further away from the door as Aemond knocks again.

“Tell him to leave me, please. I cannot bear to look at him just now.” Alicent pleads in a frantic whisper, and you nod, gesturing with your hand, at an attempt to remind her to calm herself.

As Alicent moves to her bed, you straighten out your doublet, approaching the door. Subsequently, you retract the long wooden panel barring it shut.

Aemond's features are twisted in visible confusion as your eyes meet. You school your own expression in turn, ignoring the way in which your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“The dowager queen is abed, my prince. She is not to be disturbed.” You explain with an intended air of indifference and Aemond simply grimaces. He stubbornly tries to peek into the room as you remain blocking his view; to no avail.

“I don't understand, why does my mother not wish to see me?” He asks, his growing frustration evident.

“She is abed, the hour is late.” You repeat, not unkindly, though your hand rests on the pommel of your sword on instinct.

Aemond searches your face, and soon his own expression twists abruptly, bristling when he finds nothing within your gaze that would work in his favor.

The young prince just as quickly dons a look that fills you with a familiar sense of unease.

He turns on his heels, his cape flourishes as he storms through the dimly lit gallery, eventually disappearing into the shadows.

Aemond Targaryen left for Storm's End a brilliant and obliging boy, and he returned a Kinslayer.

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenicent #alicent x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen

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